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NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS 
AND THEIR SEASONS 



362 tbe same Butbor 
AMONG RHODE ISLAND WILD FLOWERS 

Cloth, I6310. Four Illustrations 
75 Cents net 



NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS 

AND THEIR SEASONS 



BY 

WILLIAM WHITMAN BAILEY 

PROFESSOR OP BOTANY, BROWN UNIVERSITY 



6^ 



PROVIDENCE, K. I. 

PEESTON AND ROUNDS 

1897 



Copyright, 1896 

BY 

PRESTON & ROUNDS 



TRESS OF 
E. L. FREEMAN & SONS, PROVIDENCE. R. I. 



TO THE MEMORY 
OF 

PROFESSOR ASA GRAY 

MY LIFE -LONG FRIEND AND ADVISOR 
I DEDICATE 



PEEFACE 



The kindly reception given my " Among 
Rhode Island Wild Flowers " has led me, 
perhaps too rashly, to venture once more 
afield. In enlarging the scope of the work 
to include New England, my purpose has 
never been to mention all, or even a large 
part, of the flowers of this region. I have 
collected, rather, the notes of many wander- 
ings by hill and dale, on the sea-shore, or 
on the mountains, and these stand very much 
as originally written. It is hoped that they 
will thus seem fresher and more life-like than 
if worked up anew. 

I have, all things considered, deemed it 
wise to retain the nomenclature of the last 
edition of Gray's Manual of the Northern 
States. All scientific names are relegated to 
the Index. 

William Whitman Bailey. 

Brown University, 

Providence, October, 1896. 



CONTENTS 



March 1 

April 11 

May 21 

June .35 

July 53 

New England Alpines ..... 65 

August 73 

Plants of the Sea-Shore 85 

September . 93 

October 103 

November . . . . . . . .113 

Winter 123 

Index 137 



MARCH. 



See, pretty Pussy-Willow, 

In ermine mantle clad, 
Is strolling by the river 

To make the Alders glad, 
For all her yellow tresses 

Are gleaming now with gold — 
The breezes gently toss them 

In many a wondrous fold. 

These are my vernal darlings — 

This ever- wedded pair : 
My lad with silken raiment : 

His lass with golden hair. 
With merry words I greet them ; 

The blue -birds sing amain, 
The sweet south wind is blowing- 

The Spring has come again ! " 



MAECH. 

There is now a breath of the coming spring. 
The village poet writes lines upon the anemone 
and violet ; the blue birds have arrived ; the 
robins, fat and saucy, hop once more upon the 
lawn; the clouds assume the fleecy forms of 
summer. Moreover, we detect furtive symptoms 
of house-cleaning, and begin to tremble for our 
favorite spider-web. New brooms and shining 
dust pans are in order, and the annual hegira 
looms in sight. 

The brown buds of the elms can barely wait, 
the impatient leaves are so anxious to expand. 
The tips of the maples blush with the coming 
bloom, the lilac buds are green and prominent, 
and those of the horse-chestnut every day en- 
large. These burly fellows wear tarpaulins to 
keep out wind and rain. It is interesting to 
open one of the buds, so carefully packed, and 
to find the tender leaves within. They are hid- 
den in layers of cotton wool, over which are 
imbricated scales wet with a water-proof varn- 
ish, very adhesive to the touch. No retail sales- 
man could do up a package so compact and 
withal so safe. Often, too, a bud is perfumed 
with a delicate and spicy aroma. It contains 



4 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

flowers or leaves, or perhaps both, but as yet 
incipient. 

Better than all indications of the increasing 
sunshine is the flush upon the grass. It is the 
merest suspicion of green, but it is a promise of 
golden buttercups, of dandelions and daisies. 

How busy is Nature now beneath the soil, 
where streamlets trickle down to unseen wells ; 
where the roots are feeling about for generous 
moisture, and where the subterranean buds and 
bulbs are growing ! Should we put an ear to 
the ground, like Fine-ear in the fairy tale, we 
might discern what was coming. The long 
sleep of the flowers is drawing to a close, and 
soon each plant must be up and doing. 

In these early days one hardly expects any 
thing to reward him for braving mud and snow, 
but often he is pleasantly disappointed. Nature 
has not been idle in the long winter ; here is the 
skunk-cabbage in full perfection. They are 
curious plants, with hoods projecting from 
the ground as if they belonged to buried Ca- 
puchins. The most eccentric fancy could hard- 
ly call their odor pleasant. It haunts one a long 
time as an agonizing memory. The spathes 
themselves have a wild sort of beauty. They 
are prettily blotched with red or yellow, and no 
one should despise them, for they are enterpris- 
ing above all plants. It must require great 
courage to spring up out of ha] f -frozen ground, 
to look upon snow drifts and heaps of sodden 
foliage. 



MARCH. 5 

These plants are near relatives of the calla 
and Jack-in-the-pulpit. The flowers are fol- 
lowed soon by broad, green, very verdant, net- 
veined leaves. Their tufts henceforward become 
very conspicuous in marshy places, and are only 
rivalled by the hellebore, which appears about 
the same time. 

On sandy banks even in early March one may 
detect the tiny whitlow grass, one of the cress 
or mustard family, an emigrant from Europe. 
Before the month is over it is in full pod. An- 
other plant to bloom very early is the silver-leaf 
maple. The blossoms are hardly so pretty as 
those of the red. Of course chickweed will by 
this time be found in flower wherever the snow 
is off the ground. A very hardy plant this, of 
almost alpine habit. 

It is now the festival time of the mosses. 
They are never again so beautiful. The green 
of other plants seems tame beside their velvety 
verdure. We find them carpeting the cliffs and 
banks of streams, or forming luxurious cushions 
for the feet of some tree. Among the first plants 
to appear upon the earth when the dry land 
emerged from the primeval ocean, they imitate 
in their fantastic growth all subsequent vegeta- 
tion. We find among them pine forests, as it 
were, in the miniature branches of which, were 
our ears attuned to hear them, we might note 
many a breezy melody. Some of them assume 
the forms of diminutive ferns ; others are like 
palms or cycads. They do not disdain even to 



6 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

mimic tlie costumes of men, and imagination 
sees in tliem at times a mighty army, gay with 
lance and pennon, setting forth upon a journey 
of knightly emprise. 

The microscopist may well revel in the ex- 
ceeding beauty and interest of their fructifica- 
tion, and the lover of nature, in the elegance 
and variety of their colors. 

We may at this season study an incipient 
geology. One can see in miniature much that 
has happened throughout the ages ; the denu- 
dation of surfaces ; the filling in of valleys ; the 
formation of caverns ; the deposit of deltas ; the 
disintegration of mountains ; the laying out of 
alluvial formations, and even the growth of ter- 
races. On a mere rivulet we have noted all these 
changes, and have magnified what we saw till 
we seemed to stand in the presence of the 
mighty forces which created continents and dis- 
posed the course of rivers. He is indeed nar- 
row-minded who refuses to learn a lesson from 
little things. The melting ice, the effervescent 
spring — the mere dry lichen on the surface of a 
rock, may preach most eloquently. 

We are treated to sweet music in our early 
ramble. Like Jessica, we are "never merry" 
when we hear such, but rather become medita- 
tive. The streams sing to us as they dance over 
the pebbles, and the birds warble in tree-tops 
and hedges as if their wee bodies could no 
longer contain so great an excess of joy. The 



MARCH. 7 

tree-toads or hylas, too, are just beginning their 
sweet chorus from the bogs. 

The woods are full of insects, gnats, flies, and 
even mosquitoes. TTe could almost wish a cold 
snap would surprise the latter. A great purple 
butterfly, the Camberwell beauty, or mourning 
bride, floats in and out amidst the shrubbery 
like a spirit. Psyche among the Greeks meant 
the soul as well as a butterfly. Whose soul is it, 
we wonder, that haunts the New England dells ? 
Perhaps that of some Puritan maiden. 

Although there is still snow and ice under 
the lee of stone-walls and on northern hillsides, 
we will awake some morning to find the spring 
at hand. The sap is already coursing through 
the woody veins of the maple, and its swelling 
buds are ready to burst forth. The water star- 
wort mantles the silent springs. Wasps bask on 
sunny windows ; even chanticleer has caught 
the prevailing spirit; his challenge is particu- 
larly emphatic. 

To us the most bewitching things of all, for 
they are so replete with promise, are the brown 
tassels of the alder and the hazel — or the silky 
catkins of the willow. They seem just ready 
for the kiss of April, and in a moment they 
transj)ort us to the days when the sweet south 
wind is to awaken the anemone. 

How much must they lose who dwell in an 
unvarying season! The fruits and flowers of 
the tropics could not repay us for the loss of 
1* 



8 NE \ \ ' ENG LAND W1L I) FL WE Its. 

spring and autumn. Even winter affords scenes 
of bewildering beauty that we could ill spare. 
Who would not miss from his life the 

"Passionate glow of the sweet spring season?" 

It is as fresh with us now as ever. Other things 
change; even friendships fade. We see "Will 
and Harry walking arm in arm in college days, 
but in five years maybe they will merely touch 
their hats. Certain books now make us yawn — 
that were once to the highest degree dramatic. 
The theatre and the opera notably lose much of 
the subtle charm which once transmuted tinsel 
into gold, but nature still holds an unalterable 
allegiance. The first violet or anemone causes 
us to clap our hands as it did a score of years 
ago. When we see the hepatica, blue-eyed, coy, 
peeping from the rocks of some sunny hillside, 
we burst into extempore song. 

There are comparatively few people who know 
that the alder, hazel, Mayflower, and many other 
plants show their flower-buds in the autumn. 
They are formed the previous summer. 

The signs we note of the advancing spring 
are hard to put into words. There is, in the 
first place, a smell of fresh earth that the wood- 
lover learns to know. It stirs some remote an- 
cestral instinct, perhaps transmitted from the 
time when our forefathers roamed the forest. 
Then there are the distinctly marked colors, 
vivid green or bright red, of the twigs of various 
shrubs and trees, full to overflowing with vigor- 



MARCH. 9 

ous life. Certain crustaceous lichens, begin to 
assume their lovely flesh colors, while mosses 
invite us by their treacherous cushions. It will 
be many weeks yet ere it will be safe to trust 
these forest seats. Those who know where to 
find them will perceive the pure white or rosy 
pink buds of the trailing-arbutus — It never loses 
its charm. 

AVe have alluded to tassels, or as the botanist 
calls them, aments. Very many of our shrubs 
and forest trees blossom in this way. They are 
especially noticeable in spring — most of such 
plants being wind-fertilized and consequently 
having the flowers precede the foliage. We 
have, first of all, the alders, the long tassels of 
which hang over the banks of streams. At the 
same time many of the willows protrude their 
silky aments, which are popularly known as 
"pussies." No particular species perhaps can 
arrogate that title, though some are more silky 
than others. 

The willows are always a difficult study. The 
flowers precede the leaves, which must be col- 
lected later. One must also possess the fruit, 
and as the plants have two kinds of flowers, on 
separate trees, the complementary kinds must 
be secured. Then, when the leaves are obtained, 
one must be certain that they pertain to the 
flowering specimens before collected. The wil- 
lows and alders, beloved of Thoreau, are the 
true harbingers of spring. The hazels tassel out 
in March also. The staminate aments in these 



10 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

are absurdly like worms. If one looks a little 
closely lie will detect on the same shrub the 
pretty crimson stigmas of the female flowers. 
The hazel is a charming- bush at any season, 
and its nut, encased in a sort of frilled envelope, 
is a theme for an artist. The beaked hazel is 
equally pretty. 

Nature especially delights in tassels. "We find 
them in sweet-fern, the birches, poplars, nut- 
trees, iron-w r ood, etc. While most common in 
early spring, they are seen often, as in chest- 
nuts, in midsummer. In these they form great 
fountains of cream-colored flow^ers. 



APRIL. 



HEPATIC A. 

Thou blossom blue, "with laughing eye, . 
I cannot tell the reason why 
Thou art so dear, except for joy 
Thou broughtest to me when a boy. 

Ere snows had left the woodland ways 
On sunny morns of April days, 
I found thee smiling as in glee, 
And peeping through the leaves at me. 

The alder bushes barely show 
Their golden tassels o'er the snow ; 
And pussy willow's silken cap 
Proclaims her yet unbroken nap. 

But thou, bright flower, brim full of mirth 

Art here to welcome April's birth — 

A sign to us that not in vain 

Has been the winter's snow and rain. 



APKIL. 

The real Spring performance begins with us 
in April. A green carpet of grass is spread 
upon the stage, and secured by the golden tacks 
of dandelions. The marsh-marigolds kindle 
their glowing foot-lights — and, hark ! the anti- 
phonal chorus from the swamp, where the hylas 
are loudly rejoicing. The guttural note of a 
bull-frog affords a fitting bass to the high treble 
of his kindred. Can those uncurling fern-fronds 
be indeed, as they are called, the " fiddle-heads " 
of this merry orchestra ? How pleasant is the 
overture to the coming concert of the birds, of 
whom now some solitary prima donna flings 
forth her glorious melody. 

Nature has in the long winter elaborated a 
new stock of colors with which to adorn her 
theatre, for note how bright is the blue upon 
the violets, and how brilliant the green of the 
hellebore. Beneath the faded mantle which 
Autumn cast upon the earth we now find the 
Mayflower in all its beauty. Prose will not 
answer for its description, nor has poetry done 
it entire justice. While the meadows are yet 
brown and the trees are leafless, while perhaps 
even yet the snow may linger behind some se- 



14 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

chicled wall, it sweetens the spring 1 air with its 
delicate breath. It is the only flower which 
rich and poor alike vie with each other in ob- 
taining. Near our cities it is rapidly disappear- 
ing. One who has seen it only in the bunches 
sold in cities obtains no idea of its beauty. Its 
entire habit is changed by this artificial mass- 
ing. In favorable places it grows in long, lux- 
uriant trails, half concealed by fallen leaves, 
and with the rosy blossoms clustered at intervals. 
It loses the artless simplicity which is its chief 
charm when cut and trimmed into shape. It is 
one of those plants, too, whose very nature 
seems to crave a wild neglect. Its normal en- 
vironment is ever romantic. Coming so early, 
intrinsically so charming, it is little wonder that 
it is the chosen and beloved flower of New Eng- 
land — first known by our forefathers, and hence 
dearly cherished. 

As fair a flower but not so sweet is the blue- 
eyed, frolicking hepatica or liver-wort, which 
plays bo-peep from behind the mossy rocks. Its 
old leaves, which have their entire and rounded 
lobes, are evergreen and glossy. The flowers 
rather precede the new leaves, which come up 
covered with silky down. Xear the calyx which 
may be blue, pink, or white, is an involucre of 
three bracts, often itself mistaken for the calyx. 
There are few flowers that have so much ex- 
pression, such an intense air of enjoyment and 
life. They gladden the very heart of the strol- 
ler — and one, who has in youth learned to love 



APRIL. 



15 



them, feels homeless in a region where they are 
not. The first-found hepatica is an event, and 
the last one does not cloy. 

The saxifrage whose name denotes it a " rock- 
breaker," merits its title from its favorite posi- 
tion in the chinks of cliffs, which its tender 
stems persuade, rather than rend asunder. Often 
rocky hillsides are whitened with its small white 
flowers. These are in cymes, borne on a naked 
and rather hairy stem, arising from a rosette of 
spatulate leaves. 

The red-maple is now flinging its ruddy 
censers — how sweet they are! — the flowers of 
the shad-bush are flying like white butterflies 
among its silvery leaves, and the wood anemone 
ventures to unfold its fragile beauty. This little 
plant is common to both worlds — and is loved 
in both. In some parts of the country it is re- 
placed, at least in a degree, by the anemonella, 
or rue -anemone. This is a native — and is even 
more charming. Xear these we often find the 
perfoliate bell-wort. By banks of streams grow 
the pure white flowers of the blood-root and 
later the yellow adder's-tongue or dogs-tooth 
violet. 

The little five-finger or cinque-foil, called 
Potentilla by the learned, owing to some mystic 
virtue it was at one time supposed to possess, 
with its first cousin the strawberry, now be- 
spangle the meadows with yellow and white. 
Our most common potentilla is the Canadian, 

but the silver leaf springs up along roadsides 
2 



16 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

and in dry fields, while in western Massachusetts 
and Connecticut, the shrubby species is a ter- 
rible nuisance. 

In some parts of New England the bluets, in- 
nocents, Quaker-ladies, or stars of Bethlehem — 
it bears all these names and some four botanical 
ones besides — is a representative flower. It 
springs up in detached groups in grassy meadows 
— at first sparsely, but after a while the groups 
combine to whiten the fields as with snow. 
Nothing can be prettier than these delicate 
plants. They have, too, a long period of bloom- 
ing. They are of two forms, — dimorphus — one 
little group showing flowers of one form, and 
the next quite different, an arrangement to in- 
sure cross-fertilization. The corollas are salver- 
form, bluish, or white and with a yellowish eye. 
In one group the stamens will project from the 
tube and the style will be short ; in another the 
style is exserted and the stamens low down in 
the tube. Many of the madder family to which 
these plants belong, show this advantageous 
difference of form. 

We often think the columbine is the most 
graceful of all our flowers. Loving to nestle in 
the chinks of rocks and weather-beaten cliffs, 
its delicate foliage flutters in every breeze, while 
its scarlet blossoms hang out like jeweled pen- 
dants. Much loved of bees and boys ; both 
have discovered the honey-laden spurs. 

The star-anemone is found in shady woods, 
and is a member of the primrose family. It is 



APRIL. li 

curious to note in it the numerical plan of seven. 
Emerson tells us that "Nature loves the number 
five." She is about equally fond of the number 
three, but seven, though no doubt lucky, is rare- 
The wordjpWm-rose, we learn, is old English for 
prime-rose, the first rose, a pretty derivation. 
Hereabouts we have no true native primroses, 
our so-called cowslip being the marsh-marigold 
of Europe. How glorious are its yellow stars 
in "swamps and woodlands gray! " 

There can now be found regular camp meet- 
ings of Jack-in-the-pulpit. The earnest preach- 
ers are drawn upright in manly energy, but in 
dignified silence. The attuned ear only can 
catch the words of the sermon, but it is well 
worth hearing. Love of God and man en- 
ters largely into it. The erring is given a 
chance to repent ; the sinner to return to right- 
eousness. 

An interesting order of plants, to which be- 
long the mountain laurel and azaleas of June, 
is now represented by many vase-formed flowers, 
quite as pretty in their way as their gorgeous 
relatives. It is the heath family which gives us 
in April the white flowers of the leather leaf. 
To this family belongs the leather leaf with 
its urn-shaped, white corollas, hung beneath 
the branches, which bear evergreen leaves, 
scurfy underneath. The shrubs grow abun- 
dantly in bogs — especially northward. Still 
farther north the even prettier rosy androme- 
da comes in. In this same family the various 



18 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

species of buckle-berry and blue-berry, Tbe 
variety of form exhibited in these little vases, 
and their delicate shades of color, ranging from 
pure white to yellow ochre, and in one, andro- 
meda, to pink, are truly wonderful. 

Another pretty plant, and this, too, is of the 
heath family, is the creeping snow-berry, a 
trailing evergreen, aromatic, and with small 
flowers on nodding stems. Its berry is quite 
large, globular, white, and often spotted like 
some birds' eggs. 

The fair Rhodora belongs rather to May. It 
has an azalea-like appearance, and the magenta 
flowers precede the leaves. It is a shy plant, 
and loves best the depths of some secluded 
swamp. Emerson has celebrated it in one of the 
sweetest of his poems. 

Among the shrubs one is now quite conspicu- 
ous in the woods. It is the spice bush, or fever 
bush. The small yellow blossoms are grouped 
in clusters in the axils of last year's leaves. 
The foliage of this season is developed later. 
The stamens are extremely pretty microscopic 
objects, their anthers opening by uplifted valves. 
The whole plant is spicy to the taste and smell. 
In autumn it bears brilliant red berries. It, 
with the sassafras, belongs to the true laurel 
family, which our mountain laurel does not. If 
one wishes to see the leaves of true laurel or 
bay, used to crown heroes, he can find them 
often in fig boxes. 

All Nature now seems ready for some sudden 



APRIL. 19 

transformation. Now the scene is cold and 
cheerless, and the light turned off; suddenly 
there is a blaze of sunshine illuminating the 
garden of the fairies. 



2* 



MAY. 



JACK. 

I found a camp meeting of teachers, 
Most wonderful ever was seen ; 

Such quaint and prim little preachers, 
In pulpit of purple and green. 

I knew not the words they were saying ; 

The sermon did not understand, 
But saw all the flowers a-praying 

And hid my own face in my hand. 



MAY. 

" Behold me ! I am May ! " 

The May sunshine is now bright in the 
meadows. The pretty innocents that in April 
roamed at will have gathered in groups as if 
talking over the situation. If they were not in- 
nocents one might infer that they were politi- 
cians in heated discussion, but with such pretty 
faces they cannot be office-seekers, though lob- 
byists maybe. Rather may they be compared 
to young girls planning a glad surprise. Very 
demure and sweet are they in their lavender 
bonnets. Some are so shy as to turn away their 
heads. 

Violets are now everywhere. The large bird- 
foot species troop together in blue files, as if 
Nature had unstrung her necklace of amethyst 
and scattered the beads by the wayside. Haw- 
thorne says in his notes : 

"A gusli of violets along a wood path." 

This particular species is not found far from the 
coast. It loves sandy soil, and makes glad the 
waste. The true white violets, on the contrary, 
prefer damp situations. These have their snowy 
petals streaked with dark lines, as "blue veins 
meander a liberal hand," These streaks of 



21 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

color, as long ago shown by Sprengel, serve as 
" guiding lines," leading insects to the nectar. 

The small yellow violet, common in some 
parts of New England, is rare or unknown in 
others. It is stemless, and after the flowers 
pass away the large round leaves, pressed close 
to the ground, are conspicuous all summer. 
The plant is one of those that associates itself 
in memory with deep, secluded dells, shady 
ravines and hidden springs. We mention it 
with bated breath. It has had no less a singer 
than Bryant. 

lt Thy parent sub, who bade thee view 
Pale skies and chilling moisture sip, 

Has bathed thee in his own bright hue, 
And streaked with jet thy glowing lip." 

The downy yellow violet, and its smooth 
variety, is also local, but usually abundant 
enough where it occurs. We are most familiar 
■with it along the banks of runs and rivulets. 
It is found, too, in rocky ravines, where the cool 
mosses cushion the rocks and fern feathers 
droop over the babbling stream. In such places, 
also, will be found the showy orchis, with its in- 
effable perfume, and the grotesque flowers of 
wild ginger. Here the exquisite mountain 
fringe trails over the rocks, and one lights upon 
that gem, the yellow lady-slipper. 

Anemones, shy in April, now stud the copses 
everywhere with stars. The rue-anemones troop 
with them. A most delicate pink are these, 
several blossoms on a stem; a most dainty plant. 



MAT. 25 

Jack-in-the-pulpit has called in a myriad fellow 
preachers and is in exhortation. The pulpits 
are new painted for the vernal circuit. The 
itinerants beg the giddy water beetles to give 
up dancing, but nothing will stop their gyra- 
tions. They waltz, wheel, polka, two-step, and 
quadrille, in a most amazing manner. 

The dryad of the beech tree holds out her 
little gloved hand, very soft and beautiful. Can 
it be she wishes a release from her long im- 
prisonment ? Does she take us for some 
Ehoecus? Xo; she merely offers a greeting. 
There is no pledge nor promise. She would 
not on any account, leave this cool forest nook 
for the heat and dust of the city. She loves 
better the memory of the old days, and of the 
Indians who slept beneath her boughs. 

We love the long golden tassels of the birch, 
which, as we walk beneath the trees, are pen- 
dant from the topmost branches in graceful 
yellow fringes : — 

"Upon the brink of some wood-nestled lakelet, 
Thy foliage, like the tresses of a Dryad, 
Dripping about thy slim white stem, whose shadow 

Slopes quivering down the water's dusky quiet. 
Thou shrink'st as on her bath's edge would 
Some startled Dryad. 

Great opening buds of hickory as beautiful 
as flowers are fragrant with the odor of autumn 
nuts; the sweet-fern breathes out its dreamy 
perfume, and lazy butterflies wing their way 
through the bushes, seeking" the love that flits 



26 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

before them. There are opening blossoms every- 
where. Some familiar to us by homely titles bor- 
rowed by our colonial ancestors from old Eng- 
land; others that "know no name of ours," but 
wear sonorous titles of Roman and Greek origin. 
Perhaps the Indians who were real poets in their 
way, had sweet but uncouth names for all these 
treasures, which it would be well for us to know. 
Where their appellations have descended to us, 
our language of proper terms has been enriched, 
and we feel that we have inherited something 
original and rare. 

A very beautiful flower, common to both 
hemispheres, is in this month often found in our 
swamps. It is the buck -bean, or menyanthes, a 
member of the gentian family. It has long, 
sub-aqueous root stocks, from which spring the 
long-petioled compound leaves of three leaflets. 
The racemed flowers are borne on naked scopes 
and are white, or externally tinged with pink. 
Within, the divisions of the corolla are closely 
bearded with exquisite hairs. 

The meayanthes is apt to grow provokingly 
out of one's reach from the shore. If one has 
long rubber boots it is delightful to wade in 
after it, and to stand waist deep amidst its toss- 
ing plumes. Like some Lorelei, it has tempted 
many an adventurer into the water. 

While speaking of swamp plants, two should 
be mentioned that always appear to stand in 
fraternal relations — the golden ragwort and the 
painted cup. We find these friendships among 



MAY. 27 

plants, so that the experienced wood-lover from 
the presence of one will divine the vicinity of 
another. The ragwort is a very handsome com- 
posite. The painted cup, or, as the Western 
people more appropriately call it, " Indian paint 
brash," derives its charm, curiously enough, not 
from the flowers, which are small and greenish, 
but from the scarlet bracts. Occasionally one 
will be found with these yellow. The two plants 
together, when at all abundant, form a perfectly 
gorgeous carpet. The painted cup, which would 
be so beautiful in our gardens, is rendered un- 
cultivable by its parasitic habit. It is attached 
to the roots of other plants. High up on the 
White Mountains there is another species of a 
pale color. 

The fringed polygala, known also as flowering 
winter green, is a charming flower of this month, 
often found quite abundantly in low copses and 
borders of woods. The flower is magenta in 
color and very prettily fringed like an orchid. 
It is, however, in no way related to Arethusa 
and lady slipper. These are really orchids, the 
one a dainty little bulbous plant, of swamps ; 
the other, at least the stemless species, grows in 
dry pine and oak woods. A rarer kind is the 
yellow, and still more beautiful than either is 
the showy lady slipper. This is white, tinged 
with red, and is found throughout northern 
New England. 

The writer once had the fortune to meet the 
rare Calypso, and OAvns that life is well worth 

3 



28 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

living. There were two plants at the foot of a 
pine tree in a deep wood. He has never seen a 
living plant of the genus since. 

CALYPSO. 

[A rare orchid of tlie North.] 

Calypso, goddess of an ancient time, 
(I learn it not from any Grecian rhyme, 
And yet the story I can vouch is true), 
Beneath a pine tree lost her dainty shoe. 

No workmanship of mortal can compare 
With what's exhibited in beauty there ; 
And looking at the treasure 'neath the tree, 
The goddess' self I almost hope to see. 

The tints of purple and the texture fine, 
The curves of beauty shown in every line, 
With fringes exquisite of golden hue, 
Perfect the wonders of the fairy shoe. 

The goddess surely must have been in haste, 
Like Daphne, fleeing when Apollo chased ; 
And leaving here her slipper by the way, 
Intends to find it on another day. 

And will she come to seek it here or no ? 
The day is lengthening, but I cannot go 
Until I see her bring the absent mate 
Of this rare beauty, though the time is late. 

I watch, but still no classic form I see ; 
Naught but the slipper 'neath the forest tree; 
And so, for fear of some purloining elf, 
The precious relic I secure myself. 

Trilliums are quite representative Mayflowers, 
the showiest of which is very large, white 3 and 



MAY. 29 

nodding. As it matures it assumes a pink hue. 
The purple trillium or birthwprt is known to 
everyone. Its color is not really purple. At its 
best it is a rich maroon. There is a vigor and 
decision about this plant that always appeals to 
one. It might easily be conventionalized in or- 
namentation. Still, the painted trillium, white 
with a red centre, or the nodding one even, is 
really prettier. All these plants derive their 
name from the prevalence of the number three 
in their leaves and flower parts. We have heard 
them appropriately called trinity lilies. 

The "shy Linnaea," that perpetuates the name 
of the quaint old Swede, is very abundant in 
some parts of Xew England, rilling the whole 
forest with its sweet and delicate perfume. It 
trails along the ground, throwing up at frequent 
intervals a stem which bears two pretty nodding 
bells. Xear it, particularly as one approaches 
the mountains, is found the wood-sorrel, a pecu- 
liarly charming and modest plant. Its white 
blossoms are streaked with pink. 

In a similar locality look for the mitre-wort 
or the bishop's-cap, and its cousin called false- 
mitre-wort. The botanical names of these plants 
are so pretty and so easy ta remember that they 
ought to be adopted. Let us then call the first, 
with its tiny flowers like arrested snow-flakes, 
MiteHa, and its relative Tiarella. The last also 
has white flower and heart-shaped leaves. 

As one walks through the deeper and colder 
woods of our region, he comes all at once upon 



30 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

beds of a plant whose glossy entire leaves sug- 
gest the lily of the valley. These leaves are 
themselves very beautiful, and the nodding lily- 
like yellowish green flowers, charming. The 
plant is. a Clintonia. 

A more conspicuous liliaceous plant is, how- 
ever, the adder's tongue or dog-tooth-violet. It 
is in no sense a violet as its flowers at once 
show. These are best seen in open sunlight. 
The plant grows along river and stream banks 
always in beautiful places and has glossy leaves 
mottled with reddish brown. Growing in ex- 
tensive beds only a few specimens, compara- 
tively, blossom. The bulbs are well down to- 
wards China and have to be struggled for. 
These plants, if removed to a garden, increase 
and multiply, though they do not always bloom. 

A representative New England plant, at least 
for the northern zone, is the bunch-berry or 
dwarf cornel. This affords another instance of 
a plant where the bracts are more conspicuous 
than the flowers. These are aggregated in a 
head, which is surrounded by four snowy bracts. 
The flowering dogwood — one of our handsomest 
trees, also a May-flowering plant, shows the 
same thing on the large scale. They make the 
woods very gay with their large white clusters. 

There is a little rosaceous shrub in swampy 
places, known as chokeberry. It has white 
flowers and deep maroon-colored anthers. It 
belongs to the same genus with the apple, pear, 
and mountain-ash. The wild geranium is very 



MAY. 31 

common in this month. It is distinguished afar 
off by its large, light purple, or lavender-colored 
flowers. These wilt very easily, and in order to 
keep them fresh one should carry a tin box or 
case in which to preserve them. A pasteboard 
envelope box is better than nothing, and, at a 
pinch, they may be even wrapped in paper. A 
box is always desirable. It is pitiable to see a 
lot of beautiful flowers withering in the collec- 
tor's hands, and they are sure to do so if not 
protected from sunlight and air. 

Every body knows the pretty little false Solo- 
mon's-seal, or false lily-of-the-valley. It often 
grows in solid beds about the base of some tree, 
and has glossy leaves and tiny white flowers. 
A tall species grows in the woods. The true 
Solomon's-seal is known by the impressions on 
its rootstock, and has nodding greenish, or in 
the large species, green and white, very fragrant 
bells. 

Near the coast the barberry is now in flower, 
gay with yellow pendulous racemes of a dis- 
agreeable odor. The stamens are curiously sen- 
sitive, and when touched, move forward towards 
the pistil — 

"All down the loose-walled lanes in archin' bowers 
The barb'ry droops its strings o' golden flowers, 
Whose shrinkin' hearts the school gals love to try, 
With pins, — they'll worry yourn so, boys, bimeby!" 

If we examine the leaves of barberry we will 
probably find on some of them certain orange- 
colored spots caused by a peculiar fungus, com- 

3* 



32 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

monly supposed to cause rust in wheat when 
barberry bushes grow near wheat fields. This 
opinion, long regarded as a rural superstition, 
is now known to be correct. Careful study in- 
dicates that the fungus has an alternation of 
generations. The form which inhabits the bar- 
berry produces the one which injures wheat. 
Sir Joseph Banks, it is said, first called atten- 
tion to the possible relationship of the two ap- 
parently dissimilar forms, and subsequent ob- 
servations by De Bary confirmed the wisdom of 
his suggestion. The history of vaccination 
should have taught scientific men not to reject 
too suddenly even the crude notions of the 
peasantry. Under the veil of superstition the 
wise may often detect the beauty of truth. 

Several shrubs of surpassing beauty blossom 
in May. Pre-eminently first is the pink azalea, 
often erroneously called honeysuckle. It is also 
frequently known as swamp-cheese from the 
juicy excrescences which occur on the foliage. 
Azaleas are to-day ranked with rhododendrons, 
the number of stamens no longer seeming to 
separate them. The azaleas, too, as in this 
lovely one of ours, have more funnel-form or 
trumpet-shaped corollas. The bushes afford a 
gorgeous mass of color, often transcending 
pink and passing into the deepest red. 

True honeysuckles open in this month, the 
pretty bush or fly honeysuckle, and the moun- 
tain fly honeysuckle. The first is taller, indeed 
quite a bush, and has handsome red berries. 



MAY. 33 

The other is a small shrub in swampy places, 
with pale yellow flowers succeeded by blue ber- 
ries. 

The pea family is represented by the wild 
lupine, a plant so generous in its bloom as often 
to color a whole hillside with blue. The flowers 
are borne in erect racemes, and the palmate 
foliage is most exquisite. In early morning 
one often finds a rare gem of dew sparkling 
from the very middle of the leaflets. There is 
no hesitation about gathering all one wants of 
this pretty flower ; the supply is unlimited. 

As Hosea Biglow says, "I don't love your 
cat'logue style." It is our desire to avoid that 
error so far as possible. We cannot enumer- 
ate every flower of the month, and it would be 
tedious to do so. Indeed, some favorite plant 
may be omitted. Even if this is so, the reader 
can be very sure that in looking for those here 
recorded he will most likely find his own. 



JUNE. 



JUNE. 

" Our Spring gits every thin' in tune 

An' gives one leap from Aperl into June." 

— Lowell. 

About the time that young students are pro- 
jecting their graduation speeches, the meadows 
put on their most glorious aspect. There are 
certain plants that seem especially to court the 
association of grasses, much to the annoyance 
of farmers and the delight of artists. Of all 
pernicious weeds in New England the white- 
weed or ox-eye daisy is perhaps the worst ; but 
nothing can be more beautiful than a field of 
marguerites. We gather great sheaves of them 
for household decoration. Youthful maidens 
count their rays as did Gretchen to ascertain 
the state of their lovers' affections. At the same 
time with the daisies come the clover blossoms 
to afford the needed red to the picture. The 
bees quickly find them out, and reap a rich har- 
vest of honey from their nectar-bearing flowers.. 

Readers of Darwin will recall how he traces 
out the connection between cats and clover. 
Bees visit the clover blossoms for honey, but 
moles and mice destroy bees. On the other 
hand, cats wage relentless war upon mice and 
moles. So, from the good old maiden ladies of 



38 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Cranford who own the cats, there is a natural 
and logical sequence to the clover field in full 
fruition. 

Dandelions have now set their stars every- 
where, in lawns, in meadows, by roadsides, and 
away in the woods even, where their balloon- 
like fruits have wandered, wind-borne. What, 
by the way, can be more beautiful than the 
feathery globes of dandelion. Could one choose 
a more exquisite type of evanescence ? A mere 
breath is sufficient to release the little messen- 
gers. We love to follow them in imagination 
and trace their various fates. There is nothing 
in all this beautiful world more lovely than a 
group of young children playing with this lavish 
gold of Nature, tossing about the gleaming 
coin, or binding themselves together with fragile 
chains. 

It is surprising how many of these familiar 
plants are of Old World origin. There are the 
buttercups, for instance, the early bulbous one, 
as well as the tall and acrid later species. No 
one could guess that they were not to the 
" manner born." We could ill spare their glad 
faces from our fields. Perhaps the prettiest of 
all is the creeping species. It has the largest 
flowers, and these have a tendency to double. 
These buttercups or crow-feet are rare in the 
West. 

The long-leaved plantain is a characteristic 
meadow plant. It is sometimes known as rib- 
grass, owing to the long and parallel veins of its 



JUNE. 39 

leaves, which still are not those of an exogen. 
The flowers borne in spikes on long naked 
stalks, are of scaly texture and inconspicuous, 
except as regards the long filaments, upon which 
the anthers are pendulous. The styles first pro- 
ject in these plants, and the stamens later after 
the stigmas have become functionless. Hence 
re-action must take place between individuals 
of distinct spikes, an arrangement to prevent 
close breeding. 

Soon we will find in the meadows a rather 
pretty little blue flower of the mint family, the 
self-heal, or heal-all. It has the square stem, 
opposite leaves, and two-lipped corolla of its 
order, but it is without the pungent taste and 
smell. Albino conditions of these flowers are 
not uncommon. Indeed, near the summit of 
Mt. Wachusett, we have seen a whole bed of a 
white flowered form. Any flower, by the way, 
is liable to take on a white condition. Now-a- 
days it is hardly worth recording. 

A much smaller plant than the self-heal — be- 
longing to the figwort family, is the veronica or 
speedwell, of which there are a number of 
species. The blue one is an especial beauty. 
Of it Tennyson says : 

"The little speedwell's darling blue." 

The sheep-sorrel comes at about the same 
time, and when it is abundant must indicate 
poor soil or negligent husbandry. It is often, 
however, very effective in a landscape, giving a 



40 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

rich, warm, red to distant slopes at a time when 
tlie views are, if anything, too crudely green. 

After the white daisies have ceased to repre- 
sent the vast composite family, the cone-flowers 
or Rudbeckias put in an appearance. These are 
similarly constructed but are larger, and have 
a conical, chocolate-colored disk and orange 
rays. 

Our native .lilies might be classed as meadow 
plants. They are among the most beautiful *of 
our wild flowers. The times of blooming, and 
the kinds, perhaps, will vary with different parts 
of New England. In Rhode Island the first to 
appear is the so-called Philadelphia!! lily. It is 
known by its deep red, erect chalice, making it 
a conspicuous object in the meadows. Some- 
times, but not commonly, a stalk bears several 
flowers. The cone-shaped sepals are not re- 
curved as in later species, so that the flower 
forms a cup — a sort of Holy Grail that well re- 
wards the seeker. It comes at the time when 
the sweet Pogonia succeeds its cousin Arethusa 
in the swamps. We shall say more of this anon. 

The second species of lily to appear is the 
Canadian. It has a much lighter, orange-yellow 
flower, spotted on the inside with brown. The 
large, bell-shaped flowers are nodding — one or 
several on a stalk — and the sepals which in 
other species are long stalked, are here without 
stems or claws. 

Still later comes the superb lily or Turk's-cap, 
from three to seven feet in height, with showy 



JUNE. 41 

orange and yellow flowers, spotted within, more 
brilliant and glossy than either of the others. 

Our American lilies are quite commonly culti- 
vated abroad and should be here. There is no 
genus with which the gardener has done more, 
some of the crosses obtained being among the 
most magnificent of flowers. It may be of in- 
terest to note that some authorities think that the 
famous "lilies of the field" were not lilies at all, 
but the showy red anemones of Syria. How- 
ever this may be we prefer our Scripture tin- 
revised. The anemones of the field, though 
these oriental ones are indeed gorgeous, do not 
affect us as do the regal lilies surpassing the 
raiment of even Solomon. 

The old French kings were men of taste when 
they chose the flag-lily for their royal emblem. 
It is truly a regal plant. " Born to the purple, 
born to joy and pleasance," it unfolds its vel- 
vety petals and stands king-like in the meadows. 
It is perhaps unnecessary to say that flag-lilies 
are not true lilies. The genus Iris, indeed, is of 
another family. It has a perianth united into 
one piece below T and coherent with the ovary, a 
petaloid stigma, and three out-facing stamens. 
In the leaves, too, it is quite different from lilies. 
Our American species of iris are not so beau- 
tiful as the various cultivated foreigners ; they 
make a concession to our democratic institu- 
tions. Still, there is enough of the pomp of 
courts about them to make one know that they 
would shine therein. Points of official eti- 



42 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

quette would come easily to tliem. They have 
the right divine. Certain meadows, prolific 
of little else, are productive of nag-lilies. 
Sprague has well represented them in the 
" Wild Flowers of America," catching their very 
grace and pose. We have a smaller wild spe- 
cies, the Virginian or prismatic Iris, much more 
delicate. 

The orris-root of commerce (a corruption of 
iris-root) has the odor of violets, and is largely 
used in perfumery. It is produced by the rod- 
stock of Iris florentina, a species with large 
white flowers, in cultivation. Our little wild, 
blue-eyed grass belongs to the iris family, and 
is very pretty. Often a field will be gay with 
it. Perhaps our native flags would thrive in 
cultivation. Still, they can never look so lovely 
as in their own chosen meadows in the sunny 
days of June. 

Delightful meadow plants; there are none 
other like them, these beloved blossoms from 
the old home over seas. Did not Chaucer, 
Spenser, Shakspeare, Milton, wander among 
them and sing their praises ? Has not Tenny- 
son made them immortal? Among them we 
stroll as with the gods on Hymettus. Have we 
not bees here, velvet fellows, and honey as 
sweet as theirs ? Like a child we wade knee- 
deep amidst these glorious blooms. The daisies 
break in white surf around us ; the buttercups 
ride on the billows. Like Wordsworth's daffo- 
dils, they will dwell in the memory and soothe 



JUNE. 43 

in solitude. What a sky bends over them in 
these June days — the days that will come de- 
spite the caprices of May ! Italy can have no 
bluer heaven than ours, or greener foliage, or 
fleecier clouds. 

It is curious to note, from year to year, how 
new plants turn up from Europe or elsewhere. 
"What we know as " waste places," those un- 
sightly heaps where refuse is thrown in cities, 
are often rich in these waifs. Often will one 
pick up a rarity. Thus, the orange hawk-weed 
and the hybrid clover came in some years ago. 
Both are now common. 

Fair June is at her best when the wild roses 
open their blossoms to the sun. Gathered 
about the stone walls of New England, or in 
copses in the fields, or fringing the wild sea- 
cliffs, where they are always of exceptional 
brilliancy, they come quietly into bloom. It is 
peculiarly inappropriate to say of them they 
hurst into flower. Creatures so gentle have not 
so demonstrative an evolution. All their move- 
ments are, like their outlines, graceful. The 
colors are the highest and most delicate con- 
ceivable ; an embodied blush ; a sun-rise glow 
enshrined. The perfume is as sweet as the 
memory of the loved and lost. It is not over- 
powering, but pervasive, subtle, delicious, satis- 
fying. 

In the time of the roses we keep a cluster of 
the native kinds, the full-blown flowers and 
opening buds, upon the table. They hallow our 

4* 



44 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

thoughts and make us at peace with all men. 
The^y are, like all precious things, transient. 
Hardly can one say, "How admirable! " when 
the fair petals fall upon the paper. AVith the 
splendid mountain-laurel, they are " Commence- 
ment flowers," opening into loveliness at the 
time when the young graduates go forth into 
real life. 

AVe do not underrate the roses of the garden 
when we express our preference for these wild- 
lings. The undoubled flower, as Nature de- 
signed it, is dearer to us than the long-fringed 
and much-tortured hot-house forms, superb as 
those often are. In the early morning, when 
the dew beads its petals, we seek the rose as if 
in devotion. Surely no sweeter incense rises to 
heaven ! 

In the prized cultivated roses the stamens 
have been changed into petals, but in the wild 
rose we have the original and healthy flower, 
with five petals, unaltered by the art of man, 
and sweet in native innocence. Its fragrance 
far surpasses most garden roses. Were it only 
more permanent it would vie with the roses of 
the East. The flowers, however, are very evan- 
escent, opening generally for one day only, 
when the delicate petals are scattered by the 
breeze. They are most charming when in bud. 
Indeed the best way to pluck them is in the 
afternoon, when they will open for one next 
morning. 

As we ride through some wild wood road in 



JUNE, 45 

this month, where the shrubbery is undisturbed, 
the wayside may be bordered with masses of 
the pink blossoms of mountain-laurel. These 
are as fine as any rhododendrons. Beautiful 
with its glossy foliage at any season, the laurel 
is now gorgeous. It is a shame that it is so per- 
secuted. It is not Apollo that pursues our 
Daphne, but small boys who seek the roots for 
rustic baskets, or decorators avIio gather the 
leaves for winter wreaths, or flower lovers who 
come for the blossoms. 

In favored localities the shrub may attain a 
height of ten or fifteen feet and form a dense 
thicket. Every one will remember the elegant 
appearance of the flowers. These are very 
curious. The corolla is provided with ten 
pockets, indicated exteriorly by the same num- 
ber of projections. In these depressions are 
lodged the anthers. The filaments are elastic 
and are bent over and secured in the pockets. 
A slight disturbance, however, causes them to 
retract, release the tension, and throw the pollen 
as from a little catapult. This may not strike 
the stigma of its own flower ; indeed the design 
seems to be that it should not. Cross-fertiliza- 
tion is the idea aimed at. Bees are generally the 
disturbing agents and often receive the charge 
of pollen on their own bodies. The action 
is assisted by the peculiar arrangement of the 
anthers, which open by a chink at the top. Be- 
sides the name of mountain-laurel, this plant 
is now known by its scientific title, Kalmia. It 



40 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

was named after the botanist Peter Kalm. It is 
also called spoon-wood and calico-bnsh. Its 
foliage is often considered poisonous to cattle, 
but its effects are not definitely known. It is 
as well not to let small children handle it, lest 
with the instinct of childhood, they should put 
the leaves or blossoms in the mouth. 

We have two other species of Kalmia, one the 
common lambkill, low, and with deep red flow- 
ers ; the other found farther north — or on moun- 
tains, with glaucous leaves. 

Pond lilies begin to make their appearance in 
June, but continue all summer. The flower of 
this plant is an inspiration. No one looks upon 
it without feeling soothed and ennobled. The 
Oriental nations, with the poetry that distin- 
guishes them, take the lotus as the symbol of 
deit} x . In its pure bosom reposes the great 
Buddha in his condition of perfect rest; for a 
similar Nirvana all mortals are seeking. 

The sacred lotus, though not identical with 
our pond-lily, is a species of the same family. 
It is nearer like the nelumbium of the Western 
States. 

Nothing can be more beautiful than our own 
Nymphrea, with its pure Avhite petals tinged 
with shell-like pink, and its cool, delicious per- 
fume, suggesting embowered ponds and sum- 
mer shade. 

It is no easy matter to gather pond lilies ; in- 
deed, it is proverbially difficult to attain any- 
thing worth having. These plants, in the first 



JUNE. 4< 

place, grow provokingly out of reach from the 
land. To pluck them one has either to take a 
boat or play the Leander. It is better to em- 
bark in a boat, for swimming among the long, 
slippery and snake-like stems of pond lilies is 
rather dangerous business. They enwrap them- 
selves about one and threaten, like some Lorelei, 
to pull him under. But in a boat he ia. safe, 
and can sail among the floating stars in peace. 

The blossoms close in the afternoon, and are 
drawn near to or beneath the water ; they re- 
quire to bathe their bonny faces now and then. 
Linnaeus was as fine a poet as the Hindoos when 
he named the genus Nymphma, for what could 
be more sacred to the water nymphs than this 
lovely pond flower, surpassing the sweetness 
of their own breath? Perhaps our plant is a 
very nymph, who, disdaining the love of the 
gods, changed herself into this flower and abides 
with us forever. 

The leaves of the plant are somewhat heart- 
shaped and rest flat upon the surface of the 
water till a passing breeze tosses them up and 
shows the reddened undersides. 

Attention has often been called to the fact 
that a pond-lily, the very type of purity and in- 
nocence, arises from slimy and loathsome mud. 
Here is a fine chance to moralize, but we wisely 
forbear. 

Xear the pond-lily, and as a foil to its beauty, 
grows its yellow cousin. It is not pretty and 
its color is offensive. Perhaps it is yellow with 



4- 8 NE W ENGLA ND WIL D FLO WEES. 

jealousy of its exquisite companion. A little 
flower, often mistaken for a diminutive pond- 
lily, is the floating heart, but this really be- 
longs to the gentian family. The water-shield, 
too, occurs in some ponds; it has the stems 
coated with transparent mucilage, which disap- 
j3ears in drying. The flowers are small and in- 
conspicuous. The deep pink pond -lily is a sport 
merely from the ordinary. It is found near 
Cape Cod, and in some other localities. 

In cold, damp woods, especially under pines, 
is found the one-flowered Pyrola. Its botanical 
name, Moneses, means "single delight," and 
surely nothing could be prettier. The waxy 
flower is white or rose-colored, and with a most 
delicious fragrance. The plants grow in beds 
or clumps. 

In very similar places one meets with the 
equally odorous and charming partridge-berry, 
a trailing evergreen herb known to everyone for 
its red berries, which jDersist through the winter. 
The pure white flowers are densely bearded 
within, and are di-morphic like their cousins, 
the bluets, and for the same purpose. The 
plant perpetuates the name of Mitchell, a Vir- 
ginian botanist and correspondent of LimicTus. 

Most of the tropical members of the orchis 
family love to perch themselves airily upon the 
branches or trunks of trees, and their position 
aids in deceiving the observer as to their nature. 
He fancies some gorgeous insect has but 
alighted for a moment, and expects to see it flit 



JUNE. 40 

to tlie nearest flower. One would naturally 
suppose them to be parasites, but such is not 
the case. The boughs of the trees, and the 
nooks of rocks are but their resting places — the 
air is their sustenance. Their delicate beauty 
disdains to be nourished by the earth which sup- 
ports the neighboring plants. Nothing but the 
pure air of heaven can be moulded into forms 
of such ethereal beauty. So perfect is their 
resemblance to butterflies and bees that insects 
themselves are said to be deceived and enticed 
towards them. 

This apparently trivial fact assumes a deep 
significance in view of the discoveries of Dar- 
win and others, who have proved by careful ob- 
servation that most of the Orchidacece are un- 
able to produce seed except through the agency 
of insects, who, in their search for nectar, carry 
the fertilizing pollen from one flower to another. 
The organs of the insect and the plant were 
evidently planned for the purpose of assisting 
in cross-fertilization. It is asserted that some 
orchids would perish from the earth if their liv- 
ing attendants were destroyed. 

Now, none of our northern orchids are air- 
plants. All, like the lady's-slipper and Are- 
thusa, are terrestrial. Still, they bear the sign- 
manual of their order. The structure is, in ef- 
fect, the same as in the most gorgeous tropical 
species. June gives us several lovely members 
of this family. Following the Arethusa, with a 
less interval, comes the pink Pogonia in the 



50 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

bogs. It is sometimes mistaken for Arethusa, 
but is of lighter color, has a leaf midway of the 
stem, and a powerful and delicious fragrance, 
suggesting mignonette and violets. In similar 
localities grows the Calopogon. This plant 
shows several magenta-colored flowers, on a 
slender stem, and has the bearded lip standing 
like a crest at the top of the perianth. In June 
appears, also, the larger purple-fringed orchis, 
one of the most superb of our wild flowers. 

AVe love to lie, on these summer afternoons, 
in the shade of forest trees. Leaving the dusty 
city far behind, we seek some leafy nook, and, 
lulled by the tinkle of distant cow-bells, repose, 
half dreaming, on the velvet moss. Through 
the foliage, just rustled by the breath of the 
south wind, we catch glimpses of the beautiful 
river, as it flows onward to the ocean, here and 
there dotted by the white sail of some ship that 
goes out, with the trusting faith of youth, into 
unknown storms, or still more dangerous calms. 
Now and then a great, full-laden bee blunders 
against our face, and, with a buzz of apolog}^, 
flies off with his load of pollen treasure ; then a 
gaudy butterfly, banded with black and yellow, 
drops upon us, like the petal of some tropic 
flower. 

Afar off from the shrubbery comes the music 
of the thrush, as, in peasant garb of brown, he 
woos his gentle mate. Above us is the deep 
blue of the sky, flecked by billowy clouds, be- 
yond which the fancy soars to the Infinite. 



JUNE. 51 

Even the ants, who laboriously pursue their 
mysterious avocations, seem in perfect keeping 
with the hour. We like to contrast our present 
laziness with their unceasing industry, and really 
feel commiseration for these mites who take no 
rest. 



JULY. 



THE EVENING PRIMROSE. 

I stood in awe before a simple flower — 
Expanding quietly at evening hour. 
And watched to see each petal fair unfold 
'Neath Nature's touch to form a cross of gold. 

I merely whispered, " This is sacred ground ; 
The Holy Grail I now, at length, have found ; 
No longer need I weary in the quest ; 
My search is o'er : I win eternal rest ! 



JULY. 

" Find the stubborn thistle bursting 
Into glossy purples, which out-redden 
All voluptuous garden roses." 

— Tennyson. 

One cannot definitely relegate any particular 
flower to one special month. Thus, in July we 
still find the white daisies, the wild roses, lilies 
and pond-lilies abundant. The orange-colored 
Rudbeckias or cone-flowers are now in their 
glory, though they appeared first in June. 
There is more of barbaric and Oriental splen- 
dor to them, with their showy rays and dark 
chocolate centre. To see a child with gathered 
sheaves of them in her arms is to view a picture 
for a poet. They are distinctly meadow flow- 
ers, coming, it is said, from the West. The 
Rudbeckias is handsome enough for a garden, 
yet under the accepted definition of a weed, 
that it is "a plant growing where it is not 
wanted," this is a weed. It will thus be seen 
that circumstances very much influence one's 
opinion as to conventions. 

Another beautiful plant beginning to bloom 
in July, and continuing to flower until late au- 
tumn, is the so-called "butter-and-eggs," or 
"toad-flax," or wild " snap-dragon." It is a 
member of the great figwort family, in which 



5t) NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

we find tlie mulleins, foxgloves and speedwells. 
Darlington characterizes it as a "vile weed;" 

we think lie might have spared the adjective. 
It is said to have been introduced from England 
as a garden flower. He was a man of taste who 
thought it worthy of cultivation, for nothing 
can be prettier than its delicate yellow, two- 
lipped and spurred corolla, with orange palate. 
Normally the flower is very irregular and un- 
symmetrical, having only four stamens, but if one 
watches long enough during one or many sum- 
mers he may chance to find what old Linnaeus 
called its "pelorie " state, with five spurs instead 
of one, and with a full complement of five sta- 
mens. These flowers are usually late ones, at 
the top of the raceme, where they are not 
crowded, and have full play for development. 
By means of its creeping roots the plant forms 
large patches, and is difficult to eradicate. 

Belonging to the same family is the moth- 
mullein, much too pretty to be called a weed. 
The flowers, which are either a waxy white, or, 
more rarely, yellow, are nearly regular, and 
have five stamens, clothed near the base with 
violet hairs. They succeed each other in a long 
raceme, which often has, in autumn, a second 
flowering. The pods survive as conspicuous 
objects till winter. The blossoms have all the 
delicacy, when fresh, of those of the peach or 
apple ; they are, though transient, exquisite in 
a bouquet. 

Frequently we meet with the wild bind-weed, 



JULY. 57 

twining about shrubbery, and, in the early 
morning, holding out a large, delicate, pink or 
white flower, like the morning-glory. This 
plant loves the sea-side and is a marked feature 
in meadows. Transplanted to a garden, these 
perennial plants spread terribly by their sub- 
terranean stems, and become a nuisance. The 
foliage is infested by a most beautiful beetle, 
iridescent as the diamond. 

True morning-glories, by the way, are about 
as satisfactory as any flower one can possess. 
Old-fashioned they may be, but of that fashion 
that is ever beautiful. They need no special 
care, but, sowing themselves year after year, 
come up and climb over our fences and trellises, 
forming bowers of exquisite bloom. Beginning 
to open in midsummer, they do not strike their 
tents until the frost compels them to withdraw. 
Humming-birds, moths, and bees honor their 
silken pavilions and explore them for sweets. 
Their funnel-formed flowers are of many and 
varied hues — all of them delicate and admira- 
ble. The whole growth of the plant is interest- 
ing, from the time it breaks out of its husk and, 
straightening its crumpled seed-leaves, expands 
into the light and air, up through its mere vege- 
tative growth, when the heart-shaped, or hal- 
bert-shaped leaves appear, until such time as it 
actually becomes the a glory of the morning!" 
Stepping out into the garden at breakfast-time, 
one has a rare show of beauty to reward him. 
High up in the grape-vines, and in the old apple 



NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

tree, hang the pink, purple and white bells, all 
the more lovely for their extreme evanescence. 
" Loveliest of lovely things are they, on earth, 
that soonest pass away." Nothing is more 
•ephemeral than a morning-glory. It evolves 
by some mysterious unfolding into a thing of 
beauty. In a few hours it has done its work 
and coils in upon itself. " Where is that Pro- 
methean heat which can its light relume ? " It 
has gone as a sweet soul breathes itself away to 
heaven. 

There are many ways of doing nothing in 
the long vacation; all of them more or less 
profitable. In the first place, it advantageth a 
man to swing in a hammock — especially if he 
be on the sea-shore; the swaying couch and 
maritime outlook causing him to ponder much 
concerning the two great deeps that meet yonder 
on the horizon. For reading a light novel there 
is no place like a hammock. Moreover, since 
we learned somewhere that Macaulay delighted 
in trashy fiction, and spent whole nights read- 
ing dime novels or their English equivalent, we 
have felt less apologetic in regard to our own 
course. Next to a good work of fiction there is 
nothing so interesting as a weak one. The 
comedy one reads between the lines will often 
atone for many wearisome paragraphs. Just as 
we find the farce set down in the bills is not 
half so funny as the tragic prelude. 

But the most delightful of romances, or the 
sprightliest essay, or most brilliant correspond- 



JULY. 

ence, will not always fix the attention. The 
eyes wander from the book to the waving green 
of the woods, and through the quivering leaves 
to the blue above, or out to the sail-dotted 
ocean. From our position Ave can note the 
daisied meadows sweeping to the sea. Over 
these the bob-o'-links are sporting. The king- 
bird, watching his chance, darts down on some 
unwary insect. Sweet, drowsy odors arise from 
wood and field. Even the plants seem indulg- 
ing in a rest. 

Every collector knows that there really is a 
lull period between spring and true summer. 
The early flowers are gone ; the summer ones 
have not yet come, or have appeared furtively. 
In the woods scarcely anything is then found — 
cow-wheat possibly, or copses of Xew Jersey- 
tea, or a bed of early sunflowers. The plants of 
this period are mainly to be sought in swamps, 
where the shrubby loosestrife trails its purple 
clusters, or the white azalea fills the air with its 
spicy aroma. 

In brackish marshes near the sea one will find 
a flower so splendid that he will doubt if it can 
be native. This is the rose-mallow, whose 
superb pink corollas attract one from afar. The 
corolla is five or six inches in diameter, and 
may or may not have a crimson eye. Peculiarly 
delicate and refined is the texture of the petals. 
Surely a choice and aristocratic flower. 

A midsummer bouquet is certainly something 
gorgeous. Besides the field lilies we can in- 



» 1 1 > NEW ENGLAND WIL D FLO WERS. 

elude the white and orange daisies, the various 
species of yellow loosestrife (all pretty), the 
purple loosestrife (no relation of the other), and 
great tufts of feathery meadow-rue. In skilled 
hands these naturally fall into place and pro- 
duce a striking harmony. The brilliant tints of 
these blossoms always remind one of Persian or 
Turkish rugs and carpets, or of Hindoo tapestry. 
Summer has exhausted upon them her wealth 
of color. They seem too warm and glowing for 
a climate where in winter the mercury touches 
the cipher. How freely is this wealth and 
luxury offered. It is without money and with- 
out price ! 

The meadow-rue here spoken of is a tall plant, 
often five or more feet in height, tufting out 
into feathery plumes. It makes an elegant ad- 
dition to a bouquet. 

Perhaps it is needless to say that there are 
some plants that do not blend well with those 
here mentioned. Thus the little meadow- 
beauty, a very dainty thing in itself, is of that 
peculiar solferino tint that Nature loves, but 
which kills any other color. It is astonishing 
how often Ave see it in flowers. Thus Arethusa, 
Pogonia, Calopogon, Fire-weed and many other 
plants are so painted. In anything but a flower 
the color seems atrocious, but this may be only 
a matter of temporary convention. Our love of 
colors varies most capriciously like the size of 
our sleeves or the height of our collars. 

If one strolls along the bank of some wooded 



JULY. 61 

brook in this month, his eyes will be gladdened 
by a brilliant show of the jewel-weed, wild 
touch-me-not, or balsam. There are two spe- 
cies in New England, the most common haying 
orange-colored flowers, in shape singularly like 
a hunter's horn. Indeed, we have heard the 
name applied to it. This was one of the first 
plants from our region described and figured. 
It is pretty to see how the dew collects in shin- 
ing beads upon its leaves. When the pods 
ripen they scatter their seeds by a sudden rend- 
ing and twisting of the valves. In the same 
copse will be seen a mass of tiny white flowers 
of bed-straw, or " babies-breath." The en- 
chanter's night-shade, too, may be seen along 
the rivulet. Farther north, by river banks and 
on tops of the lower mountains, the lovely blue 
hare-bells tremble in the breeze. The finest 
show of these we can recall was on the summit 
of Mount Willard, in the Crawford Notch of the 
White Mountains. It is the same as the blue- 
bell of Scotland. 

On the borders of ponds and streams — indeed, 
sometimes well out into the water — grow tall 
ranks of pickerel weeds, with blue spikes of 
flowers. Mixed with these is the arrow-arum, 
with fine, generous leaves, and a long, narrow, 
fluted spathe on the plan of a calla. Somehow 
beginners in botany are apt to pass over this 
plant, perhaps because it grows in the water. 
This is at least the reason that many very showy 
bladder- worts, yellow and purple, are unknown 



62 XEW ENGLAJSB WILD FLOWERS. 

to young collectors. We have seen the surface 
of a pond golden with the common bladder- 
wort, the flowers of which resemble snap-drag- 
ons. Mrs. Treat and others have told us how 
the leaves are expert insect catchers. 

Speaking of insectivorous plants, this is the 
month in which to see the famed sun-dews in 
flower. Xo plants, perhaps, have had more said 
of them. Old Erasmus Darwin sung their loves 
and his grandson wrote their history. Many 
another has essayed to tell the action of the 
leaves. It will be recalled that those of the 
common species are round and beset with glan- 
dular hairs. These are sticky at the ends and 
glitter in the light, giving rise to the popular 
name. Insects alighting upon these hairs are 
mired ; the hairs incurve ; the whole leaf at 
length becomes concave ; a gastric juice is se- 
creted, and the creatures actually digested. The 
plants are cousins of the famous Tenus fly-trap 
of Xorth Carolina. In Southern Massachusetts 
the red-flowered species, with long, snake-like 
leaves, is found. It may yet turn up in Rhode 
Island. Sun-dews live, as a rule, in peat-bogs, 
places always peculiarly rich in plants. In peat, 
for instance, grows the curious and handsome 
pitcher plant, whose leaves also catch insects, 
but in a quite different way from the sun-dew. 
Its peculiar maroon and lemon-yellow flowers 
belong rather to June. A fine specimen of it, 
with a dozen or more pitchers, is a thing 
never to be forgotten. AVe have found it from 



JULY. 63 

Southern New England far up into New Bruns- 
wick. 

The milk-weeds, or silk-weeds, are character- 
istic July flowers. AVe have eight species in 
Xew England. The common species is known 
to every one. The handsomest is the so-called 
butterfly-weed, with orange-colored flowers, an 
extremely showy thing. A very delicate little 
plant is the four-leaved milk-weed, found in 
rocky places, with i:>ale pink and white flowers. 
The poke milk-weed grows about moist copses, 
especially in hilly regions. AYe have seen it 
abundantly about Mount AYachusett. The pedi- 
cals are loose and nodding, the corolla lobes 
greenish, and the hoods white. The leaves are 
pointed at both ends, and are of much less firm 
texture than the common milk-weed. All these 
plants, and in non-essentials they are very 
varied, have the same peculiar structure, too 
recondite to describe here. The fruit is a pod, 
which, when it opens, displays the flat seeds 
beautifully imbricated over each other and tied 
down, as it were, by their hair. This is a tuft 
of delicate, silky fibres which crowns each seed, 
and later expanding into a parachute, wafts the 
s^ed away. 

Very near relations of the milk-weeds are the 
dog-banes, of which there are two species. One 
is known as the spreading dog-bane, and is found 
along walls, in thickets, or in pastures. It has 
pretty, rose-colored bells. The other, called 
Indian-hemp, is not particularly attractive. 



64 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Both are infested by a very handsome green 
beetle, the " gilded dandy." 

In sandy districts near the coast the golden- 
topped aster covers a large extent of country. 
It is a low, almost bushy plant. Other com- 
posites of this month are wild sunflowers, the 
white-topped aster (which is not a true aster) 
and the showy chicory, which in Eastern Mas- 
sachusetts opens its great blue disks in the 
morning to close entirely by afternoon. This- 
tles, too, begin to appear, and though few seem 
to know it, one or two golden-rods. 

The finest shrubs of the month are the but- 
ton-bush, seen in and about swamps, the white 
and odorous azalea, and the great laurel, rose- 
bay or rhododendron. 

AVhile rare in most of New England, this ele- 
gant plant is common and vigorous in Rhode 
Island, near AYickford and Kingston, where it 
grows from fifteen to twenty feet in height. 

" Its cups of tender snow, 

Touched with a rosy glow, 

And warm, sweet shadows, trembling over all." 

Humble relations of these stately plants are 
the shin-leaves, or pyrolas — sometimes also 
called wintergreen, though that name more 
property belongs to the pretty Gaultheria. The 
pyrolas are low, smooth perennial herbs, with 
racemes of nodding, wax-like, white or pinkish 
flowers. They affect cold woods, where, at the 
time of their blooming, one finds little else. 



JULY, 65 

We have several species. They are close rela- 
tions of the Indian-pipes, those ghostly and 
mysterious flowers that one now finds in deep 
forests. 

" The wonder by her was formed 
Who stands supreme in power ; 

To show that life by the spirit comes, 
She gave us a soulless flower." 

NEW ENGLAND ALPINES. 

"Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise." 

— Pope. 

This is the season for mountain exploration. 
There is no such fascinating field for collecting 
as a mountain top. The plants there found are 
intrinsically so pretty; they snuggle away in 
such quaint crannies and crevices, where they 
must be earnestly sought for, often at peril of 
life and limb ; they are so rare and precious, 
things that we may by good fortune see twice 
only in a lifetime ; and, lastly, they are set in 
such a ravishing environment, the eternal hills, 
and the glory of sky and cloud. Who can ever 
forget a day on a mountain top? The whole 
landscape is one's own. Nominally, perhaps, 
some one else possesses it, but it is ours by the 
divine right of discovery and appreciation. 

Moreover, by ascending a mountain like 
Mount Washington or Mount Lafayette, one 
sees in epitome the zones of vegetation which 
he could otherwise only observe by extended 



66 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

travel. For altitude affects vegetation much as 
does latitude; plants become more and more 
boreal as one ascends, until, if the mountain be 
at all high, a region will be attained where vege- 
tation is reduced to mere lichens. 

Mount Lafayette is one of the finest peaks 
of our whole New England region. The ascent, 
while perhaps tedious, or even hard, is nowhere 
dangerous. Of course, if one left the beaten 
track, he could find difficulties and dangers 
even. 

The trail starts from near the Profile House, 
and, passing through some interesting woods, 
suddenly climbs towards Eagle Cliff. This is 
the stupendous ridge one sees to the left of the 
valley as he drives in from Franconia. Here, 
on the pathway, is a large boulder, where it is 
convenient to rest after the first third of the 
climb. From it there is a glorious view of the 
famed Profile itself, "the great stone face," al- 
ways so majestic and awe-inspiring. The eye 
also sweeps down the valley towards the Flume. 
The bugle from Echo Lake reverberates through 
the hills, and sets "the wild echoes flying." 
The whole scene is so charming, the rest so 
grateful, that one remonstrates at the order to 
"move on." But time in mountain climbing is 
an inexorable commander ; he allows no loiter- 
ing. Everyone must give an account of him- 
self. 

For some little distance now the path is level. 
Then we come to a cool, delicious spring. We 



JULY. 67 

must now brace up for the ascent, for the rest 
of the climb is serious. Every now and then 
windfalls bar the way. These one must climb 
over or pass under. There are bits of corduroy 
road much out of repair ; the brakes have 
sprung up in the pathway ; the trail itself has 
become the bed of a miniature torrent. 

An alpine-stock is of great assistance. Some- 
times one can bear his whole weight upon it, 
especially in descent. As we are now reaching 
a tolerable altitude, we begin to examine the 
plants. The most striking feature of the vege- 
tation is afforded by the billowy masses of moss 
that clothe the hillside, the rocks, and the trees. 
These mosses are of infinite variety and beauty. 
The mountain-ash is occasionally seen on the 
road. This is the " rowan" of the Scotch, and 
figures in many a legend. In late August and 
September its red berries are a striking feature 
in our mountain scenery. Birches, beeches, and 
spruces are the prevalent trees. Everywhere in 
the woods along the path is a mountain form of 
golden-rod. It has the beads disposed in the 
axils of the rather broad, deeply-serrated leaves. 
The flowers form a sort of wand. The wood or 
acuminate-leaved aster is also seen. In the 
spring these same woods are full of flowers, as 
we now note the leaves of Linnaea, wood-sorrel 
and cloud-berry. 

Well up towards the limit of ordinary trees one 
is surprised to see large, vigorous specimens of 
the white or false hellebore, which the mind asso- 

6* 



68 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

ciates rather with low ground. As a matter of 
fact, it is a marsh here, and Ave find a second 
gushing spring. 

At last we are in the dwarf forest, the little 
weird, ancient, gnome-like woods ; trees to de- 
light Doit, they are so full of apparent action; 
so grotesque. They look as if they had been 
born old, like one of the heroes of Bab Bal- 
lads. Among them we pause to lunch. 

Who can fitly sing those noonings among 
the eternal hills? There are puns in plenty; 
songs, shouts, and hot coffee, for we have, with 
due precautions, built a fire. 

Strengthened by the repast, and the pause, 
which should not be so long as to " stiffen the 
sinews," we start on, passing a little lake which 
we long to explore. A very mysterious and 
silent pool is this — a lily or two gemming its 
surface, its banks buried in sedge and juniper. 
Many fine things grow about it. 

A cloud still caps the distant summit, but in a 
moment it is gone. We seize the opportunity 
to hurry on, and we are soon amidst the sub- 
alpine flowers. The golden petals of Peck's 
geum are seen everywhere, and the snow-white 
bloom of the alpine sandwort. This is often 
erroneously spoken of as "mountain daisy." It 
really is nearer a chickweed. We see two spe- 
cies of rattlesnake root, both to bloom later. 
Round, moss-like bells of diapensia are every- 
where, with pretty flowers. This is a true arctic 
plant found in both hemispheres. The golden- 



JULY. 6 ( J 

rods now seen are only a few inches in height ; 
but the heads are large and showy. 

It should be noted that before we come to the 
last ascent we have passed through an extended 
district of dwarf firs, so closely compacted that 
it would seem possible to walk over the tops. 
Even these little trees yield finally to pygmy 
willows, birches and spruces, that closely hug 
the rocks and spread out their branches from a 
common centre. A section of a stem of such a 
plant shows it to be in age a tree ; in size it is 
not even a shrub. Stress of weather has caused 
it to pull in all sail, and to expose as little sur- 
face to the winds as possible. Herbaceous 
plants that live at this elevation, or still higher 
on "Washington and Adams, have a very short 
season of growth, and must make the best of it. 

There are in round numbers about only forty 
true alpines found in our region. These are 
confined to the highest peaks of the White 
Mountain range, to Mount Katahdin, and Mount 
Mansfield. The region about the last peak has 
proved particularly prolific of rare plants, some 
of which are confined to this one locality. 

A list of our alpines may prove interesting. 
We give both common and scientific names : 

Dwarf Bitter-cress, Cardamine bellidifolia, L. 

Marsh Yiolet, Viola palustris, L. 

Moss-campion, Silene acaulis, L. 

Sibbaldia, Sihbaldia proeumbens, L. 

Alpine cinque-foil, Potentitla frigida, Till. 

Mountain Saxifrage, Saxifraga oppositifolia, L. 



rO NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Alpine-brook Saxifrage, Saxifraga riwdaris>L. 

Saxifraga Aizoon, L. 

Saxifraga stellaris, L., car. comosa, Wild. 

Yellow Mountain Saxifrage, Saxifraga aizoides, 
L. 

Alpine "Willow-herb, Epilobium ffoi*nemanni, 
Bich. 

Mountain Cud-weed, Gnaphalium supin urn, 
Villars. 

Rattlesnake-root, Prenanthes s e rp e n t a r i a, 
Pursh, car. nana, Gray. 

Rattlesnake-root, Prenanthes Boottii, Gray. 

Mountain - blueberry, Vacdnium caespitosim, 
Michx. 

Bog Bilberry, Vaccinium tdiginostim, L. 

Bearberry, Arciostaphylos alpina, Spreng. 

Cassiope, Cassiope hypnoides, Don. 

Bryanthus, Bryanthus tarif alius, Gray. 

Alpine Azalea, Loiseleuria procumljens, Dew. 

Alpine rose-bay, Rhododendron Lapponicum, 
Wade. 

Diapensia, Diapensia Lapponica,, L. 

Alpine Speedwell, Veronica alpina, L. 

Alpine Painted Cup, Castilleia pallida, Kunth 
var. septentri oncdis, Gray. 

Butterwort, Pinguicula vulgaris, L. 

Mountain Sorrel, Oxyria digyna, Hill. 

Dwarf Birch, Betula glandulosa, Michx. 

Dwarf Willow, Salix phytic {folia, L. 

Bearberry Willow, Salix Uva-ursi, Pursh. 

Herbaceous Willow, Salix herbacea, L. 

Dwarf Willow, Salix arcjyrocarpa, Anders. 



JULY. 71 

Wood-rush, Luzula arcuata, Meyer. 
Wood-rush, Luzula spicata, Desvaux. 
Sedge-rush, Carex capitala, L. 
Sedge-rush, Oarex atrata, L., var. ovata,J$ootk. 

Sedge-rush, Carex vulgaris, Fries, var. Icy- 
perborea, Boott. 

Hair-grass, Deschampsia caespitosa, Beauv. 

Holy -grass, Hierochloa alpina, Boem and 
Schultes. 

To these should be added a few sub-alpines, 
which the casual collector would not be likely 
to distinguish from alpines proper. These are : 

Mountain Sand- wort, Arenaria Groenlandica, 
Spreng. 

Mountain Avena, Geum radiatum,Mickx., car, 
PecJdi, Gray. 

Cloud-berry, Pubus Chamcemorus, L. 

Alpine Golden-rod, Solidago Yirgaurea, L., 
car. Alpina, Bigel. 

Arnica, Arnica Chamissonis, Less. 

Cow-berry, Mountain Cranberry, Vaceinium 
Vitis-Idoea, L. 

Eye-bright, Euphrasia officinalis, L. 

Alpine Knot-weed, Polygonum Viviparum, L. 

Crowberry, Em/petrum nigrum, L. 

Mountain Orchis, Hctbenaria obtusata, Bich, 

Mountain bulrush, Scirpus caespitosus, L. 

Sedge, Carex capillaris, L. 

Trisetum, Trisetum sub-spicatum, Beauv. 

Any one comparing these lists with similar 
ones from Switzerland, the Pyrenees, or the Him- 
alaya, or, indeed, any of the high ranges the north 



& 



i'2 NEW ENGLAXD WILD FLOWERS. 

over, will note at once many marked corres- 
pondences. A large number of plants will be 
identical, while many others will exhibit close 
similarity. Yet are the peaks upon which they 
grow separated by profound oceans or contin- 
ental distances. What is the ke}^ to this won- 
derful distribution ? The explanation given by 
Gray and others is that these boreal plants 
came south in the glacial period. When the 
climatic conditions, however, changed, they f ol- 
lowed the retreat of the ice towards the north. 
Still, while the main army of plants, pursued by 
warmth, continued their march towards the 
pole, some found congenial conditions on the 
mountains, survived and perpetuated them- 
selves. Thus we find them on isolated peaks, 
sojourning, as it were, in a strange land, and 
often accompanied by a peculiar local fauna, 
which, with them, reappears again far to the 
north. 

Again, the collector will note that although 
the plants are small, they root deep, and often 
possess flowers of surpassing brilliancy of color. 
They are, too, apt to be large for the size of the 
plant. The dwarf azalea, the pretty diapensia, 
the mountain rhododendron, the moss-like cas- 
siope, are surely among the loveliest of our wild 
flowers. A da}^ spent in their collection is ru- 
brical forever. 



AUGUST. 



BLUE CURLS. 

{Trie! to sterna.) 

The tint of the sky. 

Has been given to you, 
In your laughing blue eye 

And your bonnet of blue, 
In the shade of your gown, 

In your dress, in your hair ; 
In } r our gems, in your crown, 

There is blue everywhere. 

Was Blue Beard your father, 

My pretty Blue Chris ? 
They say he was rather 

Too partial to girls. 
What charm of his daughter 

Induced him to spare 
From general slaughter 

Thy maidenhood fair ? 

Did he love your poor mother 

The dearest and best, 
Who, for some whim or other, 

He sent to her rest ? 
Did he dote on your tresses, 

The hue of his beard ? 
Did he seek your caresses, 

Or was he afeard ? 

However he ended, 

In sorrow or glee, 
No sin has descended 

From him upon thee ; 
No crimsoning stain 

Of his scimitar wild, 
Shall ever remain 

On his innocent child. 



AUGUST. 

" Our children know each wild-wood smell, 

The bayberry and the fern ; 
The man who does not know them well 

Is all too old to learn." 

— Holmes. 

A bouquet of August flowers has not the as- 
pect of airy grace that distinguishes one gath- 
ered in earlier months. The colors are more 
intensified, and the whites are rarely tinged 
with rose. To make up for these qualities, they 
are more gorgeous. When tastefully arranged, 
they will vie with any hot-house favorites. 
They possibly require a little more repression, 
but with patience in the treatment, the resulting 
nosegay cannot be surpassed. Truly they are 
typical of the perfect year, mature but not yet de- 
clining. Only here and there a glowing golden- 
rod gives warning of the sorrowful Autumn. 

How regal are these flowers in their splendor ! 
AVe cannot paint in words, nor can art depict, 
the cardinal flower by its native stream. One 
sometimes surprises the whole sacred college 
proceeding to some conclave on high ecclesias- 
tical rite. So gorgeous is their costume that it 
puts to shame all humbler plants. The car- 



76 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWER*. 

dinals will form a bouquet by themselves. They 
are members of the genus Lobelia, and the 
finest of a race in which there are several beau- 
ties. The others, like Indian tobacco, have 
small blue flowers, and are found quite com- 
monly in summer, in meadows and low grounds. 
They are all, in a measure, poisonous, but not 
to the touch. The name Lobelia was given in 
honor of the Flemish botanist, De l'Obel, so 
that when quacks speak of Ilighljelia andZo//*- 
belia, they perpetrate a very tolerable joke. 

We haA^e said that the cardinals should be 
kept by themselves, but the pure and fragrant 
clethra, or sweet pepper bush, can, without a 
fear of injury, approach their aristocratic com- 
pany. This handsome shrub begins to bloom 
in late July, but it lingers to greet the cardinals. 
Why should we turn to China, Japan, and the 
isles of the sea, when our own forests yield us 
such a shrub as this ? 

The " lilies of the field" are still with us in 
this month ; at least, the Turk's-cap is still found 
in perfection. Their inimitable raiment is nec- 
essary to brighten our bouquet. To them as a 
basis we add the featheiy white of thorough - 
wort, and dispose here and there an early gold- 
en-rod or aster. 

But many of these plants are most natural in 
their own surroundings, and here Ave must learn 
to know them. They will, perhaps, put on airs 
when taken to the city, but here they are very 
sociable. He knows but little of Nature who 



AUGUST. 77 

supposes that flowers are not susceptible of 
kindness ; one may have 

M Many a life-long leafy friend." 

Moreover, they have their own friendships, 
predilections, and associations. 

Look now for the pretty blue monkey flower 
and the closed or box-gentian. This latter is in 
no wise so beautiful as its cousin, the " fringed," 
but it has a shade of the same transcendent 
blue. Sometimes the color is almost metallic ; 
again it will be a deep, opaque azure. These 
flowers are only nominally closed ; the bee can 
pry them open. Near them generally grows 
the turtle-head, and a bouquet combining them 
with the cardinals is a thing of beauty. AYe 
thus have the red, white, and blue. These all 
grow by stream or river banks, or in wet mea- 
dows. The cardinal well bears transplanting, 
and is a great ornament to a garden. Here it 
has an odd trick of escaping from the rich bed 
into the gravel paths — a chance for a moral. 

The star flowers of composite grow more and 
more frequent and characteristic as the summer 
declines. Even thus early they are everywhere. 
In the swamp the iron-weed lights up its purple 
beacon; near it the thoroughworts, purple or 
white, are seen, and there are myriad thistles, 
hawkweeds and fire - weeds. The climbing 
thoroughwort, or mikania, drapes the copses. 

YTe never can pass the everlastings, our 
American edelweiss, either the superb and pure 



,S NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

immortelle, or the less handsome one which, by 

its ineffable odor, suggests some weird impres- 
sion of a past life. 

If we but touch it the strange perfume haunts 
for the rest of the day and the mind gropes into 
the boundless past for something it cannot re- 
call. Dr. Holmes spoke of the peculiar effect 
that this odor has, and endeavored to account 
for it. To some persons the smell is disagree- 
able ; to us it is an antidote to Lethe. 

A series of plants distinctive of August are 
the tick-trefoils. This common name is be- 
stowed in reference to the fruits and leaves. 
The former are a sort of pea-pod, clothed with 
minute hooks, and which breaks up at a touch 
into flat joints. Each detached piece adheres 
to the clothes like original sin. It does no 
good to attempt rubbing them off; only de- 
liberate removal of each separate piece will 
alone suffice. This is a labor of time — and 
sometimes of love ; never of patience. This 
plant, in brief, illustrates how man may be made 
an unwilling agent in plant distribution. There 
are a great many varieties of these Desmodians, 
and when in flower, their pea-shaped blossoms 
are very light, delicate and pretty. The high 
bush-clovers are their cousins. 

The great pea family furnishes several other 
showy August flowers, the loveleist of which, 
perhaps, is the ground-nut with its powerful 
but too evanescent fragrance of violets. The 
shell-like flowers are a purplish brown, and have 



A UG UST. i 9 

a peculiar twist in the heel. The wild indigo — 
so conspicuous a yellow on many meadows, be- 
longs to the same order, and is a stout, bushy 
herb. It is often attached by country people to 
the harness of horses to keep off flies, though it 
would appear to be of doubtful efficacy. Still 
we cannot say how much worse off the poor 
beasts might be without it. Then there is the 
beach-pea, which is not distinctively an August 
plant, but which still graces the sea-side with 
its trailing vines, and large, purple, showy 
flowers. AVe often envy it its cool position, 
where it ever breathes the fresh, salt odor of the 
ocean. 

We ought next to speak of the Cassia, but it 
is hardly fair to poke fun at it while it is asleep. 
Asleep ! Do plants, then, have a period of 
slumber? Yes, many of them do, and the 
Cassia is a striking example. If one observes 
it towards night-fall, he will perceive it fold its 
little leaves in prayer and sink to rest with a 
child-like faith. In the morning it will spread 
them out again, as if in joy at awaking. There 
are many plants that thus indulge in a period 
of repose — if indeed they all do not. The 
locusts, peas, sorrels, and many other plants 
noticeably exhibit the phenomenon. The poncl- 
lily closes its petals in the evening, and any 
one who has a garden will recall innumerable 
examples. The evening primroses, on the con- 
trary, pop open at twilight and are marvelous 
to see. AVe have two species, the biennial, 



80 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

which is very variable in the size of its lemon- 
yellow flowers, and the pretty dwarf, found in 
moist places. The tall species is very common 
in sandy regions and along road-sides through- 
out New England. I find that many persons 
have never seen the very striking phenomena 
of its opening. It is well worth a quiet half 
hour of observation. 

All the member of the genus Gerardia are 
very showy. They are representative August 
flowers, often called fox-gloves, from the re- 
semblance to the well-known European flower. 
Indeed, they belong to the same great figwort 
family. They live as parasites on the roots of 
other plants, but, at the same time, do a reason- 
able portion of work for themselves. They are 
not born sycophants and thieves like the dodder, 
which one finds coiled like copper wire around 
the stems of herbs and bushes. Bees are very 
fond of gerardias, especially the yellow species 
which have a powerful fragrance and produce 
much nectar. We have often watched them 
about the bell-like flowers, which, although in- 
vitingly open, they merely pierce at the bottom, 
and thus burglarize the nectar. Let us examine 
one of these showy blossoms. It has four 
stamens, two long and two short. These, to- 
gether with the whole interior of the corolla, 
are clothed with soft wool. What may be called 
the lip, is marked on the inner side by two 
parallel rows of reddish dots. The plant is 
often three feet in height, and the leaves and 



AUGUST. SI 

even the sepals are exquisitely cut. There are 
several yellow gerardias earlier in the season. 
They grow in open woods. The dainty purple 
species — loves moist spots along road-sides — or 
half-marshes. It is especially lovely near the 
shore. In the actual salt marshes it gives place 
to a fleshy leaved kind. Inland again, we find a 
purple one whose flowers are raised on alter- 
nate stalks. In all the flowers are very de- 
ciduous. 

Climbing over bushes, or even high up in 
trees, from which it trails like some tropical 
vine, may be seen the clustered white flowers 
of the clematis, soon to be succeeded by the 
feathery fruit. Nothing can be more lovely 
than this "virgin's bower" as it tosses its random 
spray over a wall or copse. Indeed the stone- 
walls are the natural trellises of New England. 

Our ancestors, when they collected the stones 
from out the pastures and devoted them to the 
construction of substantial fences, of a truth 
builded better than they knew. Their immedi- 
ate object was to clear the field of obstructions, 
and aesthetic considerations, if cherished at all, 
were probably of secondary importance. No 
one, however, with a sense of beauty, and with 
common powers of observation, can have trav- 
elled in New England without invoking bless- 
ings on those rough old farmers, who, though 
purely practical, have conferred so tasteful a 

gift. 

Near the coast these stone fences are often 



82 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

too light to be either picturesque or protective. 
One climbs them at the peril of life and limb. 
A bold dash is all that saves from destruction. 
A false step, and the wall descends with the 
scaler. Inland the walls assume the permanent 
and artistic aspect which we so much admire. A 
new stone wall, to be sure, is a lovely object, 
but then it is rarely seen. Nature claims the 
recent and the old as hers, and soon subdues 
with lichens the raw tints of the granite, and 
conceals all rectilinear outlines with her shrub- 
bery and flowers. The wild plants and the 
bushes which the operations of husbandry have 
driven from the fields, retreat with confidence 
within the shadow of the walls, assured there 
of protection and a home. Who could de- 
liberately denude a wall of this its ornamental 
clothing ? 

At this season these mural fences are particu- 
larly charming. The woodbine clings to them 
caressingly, its topmost tendrils even turning 
as if loth to go ; the blue flowers of the bitter- 
sweet look out from unexpected crannies, while 
its green and scarlet berries are ripening in the 
sunlight. Here the Roxbury waxwork scram- 
bles over the stones, and the clematis flings its 
garland. The hardback and meadow-sweet 
draw up in lines as for a final stand, and early 
golden-rods, with wands of j^ellow, impart a 
saddened glory to the scene. The rich clusters 
of the barberry are gradually changing from 
orange to scarlet, and the white-topped aster is 



AUGUST. 83 

suggestive of the approaching galaxy of stars. 
The broad white cymes of the elder, in their 
season, yield to the fragrant clethra, or the still 
sweeter ground-nut. Of course, the vegetation 
varies with the location of the wall. The drier 
region has, by preference, been described, as 
more familiar to the reader. 

Truly, " stone walls do not a prison make;" 
to minds innocent and quiet they may, indeed, 
prove a hermitage. They are our American 
ruins, and Ave could ill spare them from the 
landscape. Already, in August, there are pre- 
monitions of Autumn. The golden-rods are 
brilliant in the meadows, and along the high- 
ways, waving their yellow plumes amidst the 
spikes of hardhack, the paint brushes of the 
thistles, and the feathery heads of thorough - 
wort. The asters, too, with which the gown of 
Autumn is to be bespangled, are worn as jewels 
by the matron Summer. She does not employ 
the azure stars as freely as her younger and 
fairer sister, but exhibits the same elegant taste 
in their display. She loves, too, to wreathe her 
brow with clematis. She is unaware that she is 
old ; she still coquettes with the scarlet cardinals, 
whose vow of celibacy does not prevent flirta- 
tion ; keeps company with the meadow-beauty, 
and perfumes her garments with the pond-lily. 

The tupelo is now attired in glossy green and 
red. It is a small tree but at this season, one 
of the very showiest. Then there are the su- 
macs ; their elegant pinnate foliage is already 



84 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

blotched with crimson ; while the poison-ivy is 
mottled with yellow and brown. The stems of 
the poke-weed are purpling in color, and its 
berries, so precious to the birds, are full to re- 
pletion with ruddy juice. Often some bright 
tinged leaf will float down to us from a maple, 
while in the elm trees we may see an entire 
branch of gold. It looks as if some Midas had 
touched it with his avaricious finger and trans- 
muted the texture into metal. 

Often as one strolls through the woods, he 
sees some brilliant tint, which he conceives to 
be an unfamiliar flower. It appears to be a 
prize hitherto unattained. xlpproaching the 
object, it is found to be, not the imagined 
flower, but a gaudy leaf. 

Many of the seeds and pods are colored and 
add beauty to the scene. There are, too, the 
splendid pompons of sumac, the bright red 
clusters of the mountain- ash, the scarlet clus- 
ters of the bunch-berry, the deep blue globes of 
Clintonia, the ivory-white necklace of bane- 
berry, the purple speckled fruit of Solomon's- 
seal (the false kind), and the coral clusters of 
Jack-in-the-pulpit. The priest has taken to his 
beads. 

The close of the Summer must of necessity 
bring sad thoughts. It seems but a day since 
we saw the first timid anemone in April, and 
now the blue and gold of Autumn is at hand. 
So near are death and life, that even as we 
pluck a full dyed leaflet we may find at the end 



AUGUST. 85 

of the branch the tender opening "buds, and 
often the promise of next year's flowers. 

"Spring and Summer here dance band in hand." 

One of the most beautiful flowers of this 
month — or of any — is the Sabbatia, found about 
the borders of brackish ponds near the coast. 
It begins to flower in July and its blossoming 
period extends into September. It is a glory 
to behold, a member of the gentian family, 
which affords so many beauties. The non- 
botanist might think he had found a beautiful 
pink composite ; the radiate look of the flower 
suggests that family. This is due to the deep- 
parted, rose red, or rarely white, corolla. It re- 
quires no floral education to admire these 
charming flowers. 

PLAXTS OF THE SEA-SHOEE. 

' ; Ye fresh flowers that brave 

What Summer here escapes not, the fierce wave, 
And whole artillery of the western blast." 

— Wordsworth. 

One who resides for a while near the salt 
water will perceive that there are certain plants 
that love the vicinity of the sea. "We are not 
now speaking of true maritime plants, but of 
those littoral species just above tide-water, or 
even washed by the ocean's ebb and flow. 
These, like other plants, vary with the season, 
and pass along in regular procession through- 



86 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

out the season. They are, however, most in 
evidence, in the late Summer. Above the line 
of refuse sea-weed is the pretty beach-pea, with 
purple flowers and pinnate leaves. It forms 
large patches, and the full pods look really ap- 
petizing. A little further up from the shore the 
pink bind-weeds are in all their glory, twining 
over the shrubbery, and spreading their silken 
tents for wandering bees. Every where we see 
the Venus' looking-glass, looking like a blue- 
bell, which, in effect, it really is. Then, too, he 
will notice the blue toad-flax, the purple gerard- 
ias, certain fleshy leaved asters, and the cam- 
phor-weed. Not in bloom but observable for its 
beautifully dissected foliage, is a salt-water 
wormwood. Its flowers are never very pretty. 
It is the cousin of the western sage bush. 

In similar places grows the water pimpernel, 
and not far off is the charming " poor man's 
weather-glass," or true pimpernel. Both of 
these plants of the primrose family grow also 
in Europe. The first is interesting from the 
row of sterile filaments which throw light on the 
opposition of stamens in the family. In the 
second the flowers quickly close upon obscura- 
tion of the sun ; hence the common name. It is 
a most lovely little flower, usually brick-red, oc- 
casionally blue. On the banks of salt runs or 
estuaries may be found quantities of silver- 
weed, with pinnate leaves, and serrate leaflets, 
white and silky beneath, with smaller ones in- 
terspersed. The flowers are like those of the 



AUGUST, 87 

common cinque-foil, but larger, and raised on 
long stalks. The plant grows by runners. 

Several of the Umbelliferm are prevalent 
near the shore. One always finds the water- 
parsnip, with its pinnate leaves and white um- 
bels, and the small and delicate mock bishop's- 
weed. The dwarf evening primrose is common 
in the sands, but the queerest plant is the sea- 
sandwort, with its thick, fleshy leaves. Mari- 
time plants, indeed, are apt to be thus succu- 
lent. So we find the samphires, the saltworts, 
and some of the pigweeds. Even the gerardias 
and spurreys become so near the water, and the 
maritime golden-rod partakes of the same char- 
acter. 

Of course, near the shore there are a great 
number of characteristic sedges and grasses, 
rushes and the like. Sometimes we pick up 
that funny plant of the mustard family, the 
pennycress. It has broad, circular, winged 
pods, deeply notched at the top. The maritime 
grasses are some of them showy. At Block 
Island we have seen, a salt pond fringed with 
reed grass ten feet high. The sea-sand weed, a 
different plant, is sometimes used to bind the 
shifting sands, and thus prevent the incursions 
of the sea. The hedge-hog or bur-grass is 
sometimes a nuisance to bathers. Gray calls it 
a vile weed. 

Often we stop to study some particular plant, 
attracted by its intrinsic loveliness, or by some 
resemblance to another whose acquaintance we 

8 



88 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

have before made. Our humble weeds often 
throw a light on the structure of their proud 
relations. In other words, it does not do to 
ignore the peasantry in one's classification. 

With tin box on shoulder we often wander by 
"the much-resounding sea," to pick up littoral 
plants. They have an especial charm. By the 
broken-down fences — and all fences are so 
broken in clam-bake regions, we find tall copses 
of wild sun-flowers. These are not so bold, ag- 
gressive and saucy-looking as those of the gar- 
dens, but still are very bright and showy. At 
Newport we have found the garden "money" 
growing along the beach — the only coin that 
has ever turned up in our pathway. It is the 
pretty little loose-strife used in vases. 

Besides the beach-pea, there is another legu- 
minous plant very common, a species of bean, 
sprawling over the sands and through the 
grasses. Tall spartinas are yet in flower. Just 
coming into bloom is the really splendid sea- 
side golden-rod, and along the road is noticed 
fine clumps of the rich purple New England 
aster. The lance-leaved golden-rod covers the 
rolling hills with its yellow bloom. Often we 
find it thronged with that pretty moth, the 
Diopeia Tjella. In very sandy stretches, a little 
inland, appears the heath-like knot weed, very 
delicate and pretty. It is more of a September 
plant. All visitors gather it into large bunches, 
as they do the marsh rosemary or sea-side 
lavender, for winter decoration. 



AUGUST. 89 

Butterflies at times absolutely swarm over the 
sands. They are those large burnt-sienna col- 
ored fellows, the Danais Archippus, creatures of 
exquisite beauty. 

Sometimes we are tempted to chase the her- 
mit crabs. What accommodating tenants they 
are, never taking possession of a house till the 
owners have parted with it forever — even then 
backing in, as if apologizing! But then to 
think of being eternally saddled with one's real 
estate ! 

As we pick up some cast-off boot or some 
barnacle-incrusted timber, clothed with dulse, 
we always think of Ariel's lines : 

" Nothing of him that cloth fade, 
But doth suffer a sea-change 
Into something rich and strange." 

How soon nature abrades our angles, polishes 
our surfaces, hides all ugly places, and smoothes 
the wrinkles of old mother earth ! A chasm but 
yesterday — to-day behold a garden green with 
clinging ferns and bright with blossoms ! Often 
we muse over some pebble or shell, worn smooth 
by ages of washing. Whence did it come ? How 
many changes has it seen ? We fill our pockets 
with these trifles of the sea, but their glitter is 
for the strand alone. 

4 * I fetch my sea-born treasures home ; 
But the poor, unsightly, noisome things 
Have left their beauty on the shore, 
With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar." 



90 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

In a collection of dried plants one from the 
sea-side always affects us like a beautiful poem, 
or a strain of solemn music, or the voice of a 
departed friend. The feeling is too "akin to 
tears." Yet who would forego these sacred mo- 
ments? We are none the less brave for a mo- 
ment's sadness. Says Henry Taylor : 

" He that lacks time to mourn 
Lucks time to mend." 

Iii the hurry and dash of life it is well if we 
can pause by the ocean, or think of it eA^en, in 
silence and awe. We all have precious recollec- 
tions of early days at the sea-side. These often 
sing in the mind like the murmur of marine 
shells. We cannot recall where or when, but 
Ave know that sometime Ave were by the sea, and 
were young, and that others too were there avIio 
have drifted out across the eA T en A T aster ocean. 

There is in life no gladder picture than that 
of little children on the beach. Hoav infinite is 
their enjoyment! The wave-borne treasures of 
shell or Aveed haA T e A r alue above any of their 
after prizes. Hear their shouts and trills of 
delight — the music of little birds distinguished 
amidst the lash of waters ! In one place a group 
of youthful Partingtons are trying Avith A^ain 
endeavor to turn back the Atlantic. They are 
undaunted by the incessant demolition of their 
handiwork. Again they write their names upon 
the sand for ocean to erase — a small work that, 
and an uiiAvorthy, for potent Neptune. He 



AUGUST. 91 

might, one would think, spare the autograph -of 
a baby, he who has allowed ripple-marks and 
rain-drops to petrify into records of an ancient 
world. How much more imperishable should 
be the innocent touch of a child. 

Behold those little waders yonder, letting the 
frothy waves dash round them, bowing down 
to catch the yeasty water, and rising, like 
Aphrodite, seaborn from the foam. Where the 
retreating tide leaves pools and shallow ponds 
among the rocks, there again we see young peo- 
ple eagerly hunting for marine wonders, the 
crimson dulse, the sea-wrack or the devils-apron. 
Here they find, perhaps beautiful flower-like 
animals — the composites of the sea, or trans- 
parent, vari-colored medusae. The discovery of 
a shell or a hermit-crab, or a star-fish, is enough 
to produce a tumult of wildest joy. Up, be- 
yond the beach slope billowy meadows — at this 
season gay with myriad flowers. 

Yet, even now we have forebodings of the 
year's decline. It is still full Summer and the 
flowers are gorgeous, indeed the most splendid 
of the year, but they are the offspring of the 
mature season — and show no light frivolities of 
Spring. 

It is not alone in vegetable life that we see or 
feel this advent of the Autumn. The birds do 
not sing as they did a month ago ; some of 
them are heard only i*n the early morning or at 
twilight ; others are utterly silent. It is a sad 
thought that they are ever to leave us, but — 



92 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

" Tis always morning somewhere, 

.And above the awakening continents, from shore to shore, 

Somewhere the birds are singing evermore." 

Often now, as we look at the sky at sunset, 
we notice a green tint near the horizon. It is 
the cold, clear, infallible sign-manual of Septem- 
ber. Let the sun glow as he may, he will not 
always be able to warm up that color. 



SEPTEMBER. 



THE CLOSED GENTIAN. 

Fair Gentian, come, thy secret to me tell, 
What dost thou hide within thy azure cell ? 
What sacred treasure keep from human view 
Beyond the curtains of th}^ blossom blue ? 

Are thy sweet e} T es forever closed in sleep ? 

Cannot thy lover take one little peep ? 

Or dost thou grant alone unto the bee 

To thus commune in silent thought with thee ? 

Some say thou art Pandora's box of old. 
That all the troubles of the world did hold ; 
I wonder much, if underneath thy cope 
Remains as then, one fond and lingering hope ! 

The scarlet cardinal in his pomp and pride, 
His priestly terrors long in vain has tried, 
He cannot wrest confession of a sin, 
Nor hope thy trembling, gentle soul to win. 

I think a sorrow, not a sin concealed, 
Thou wilt at last to tender pleading yield, 
And he will hear who learns thy secret then, 
A tale of love unknown to other men ! 



SEPTEMBEE. 

<; I love to wander through the woodlands hoary, 
In the soft gloom of an autumnal day, 
When summer gathers up her robes of glory 
And, like a dream of beauty, glides away." 

— Sarah Helen Whitman. 

It is a sad task to record tlie departure of the 
flowers. If anyone should visit the woods, 
however, in early September, he would scarcely 
imagine the summer on the decline. The woods 
teem with blossoms. True: but it is not for 
long. They are gathering for a final display, 
which, though it wall be gorgeous and spectacu- 
lar, will also be brief. Into this show not only 
the flowers, but the leaves even will be pressed. 
AYe will still find a few T of the brilliant August 
flowers, as the bright yellow bells of the gerar- 
dias, or the scarlet streamers of the cardinal 
flower, perhaps the white turtle-head, and the 
box or closed gentian. 

Xow is the time to study asters and golden- 
rods; their name is legion. "We will consider 
golden-rods first, for though typical Autumn 
flowers, some begin to bloom as early as July. 
It is common to hear persons, ignorant of bot- 
any, say "the golden-rod," showing that they 
are totally unaware that there is more than one 



96 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

kind. So, when some one remarks that the 
golden-rod should be our national flower, we 
wonder which he has in mind. Is it the white 
one, or the maritime, or the broad-leaved, or the 
strict? They are quite unlike in foliage, ar- 
rangement of flower clusters, and size of heads. 
The prevalent kind depends wholly on the loca- 
tion. One species, as splendid as any, is found 
on the tops of mountains only ; another prevails 
on sandy plains ; another on foot-hills ; another 
by the sea, and still another in copses or even 
woods. In some districts, indeed, it would be 
impossible to say that any one species was more 
common than another. Often a great variety 
grow mingled together. As soon as one's at- 
tention is directed to this diversity, the slightest 
scrutiny will show how various are the species. 

These plants all belong to the great composite 
family, which includes the daisies, sunflowers, 
chickory, and dandelion. The genus Solidago 
of Linna3us consists of plants herbaceous, in- 
deed, but perennial, and often forming stout, 
almost woody stems. The stem-leaves are 
nearly sessile, or without stalks, while the radi- 
cal or lower ones are often long petioled and 
quite different in shape. The heads or flower- 
clusters vary much in the size and number of 
contained blossoms. These are, as in the daisy, 
of two kinds, tubular ones in the centre and 
rays around the margin. They are, in other 
words, like an aggregation of little daisies. 

One of the earliest to appear is Solidago ar- 



SEPTEMBER. 97 

guta. Almost simultaneously appears in wood- 
lands the sweet golden-rod, with an anisate or 
liquorice smell to the crushed foliage. One 
usually finds it thronged with wasps and blister 
beetles. A little later Solidago nemoralis begins 
to appear in pasture lands, a rather low species 
usually, with the wand of flowers turned to one 
side. Others then rapidly follow, until finally 
the whole landscape is aglow with their gorg- 
eous yellow. A number of tall species especially 
love to grow along stone walls, which they do 
much to beautify. Among the late-flowering 
species is Solidago ccesia, with flower heads in 
the axils of the leaves on long bending stems. 
In similar places, rather more hilly, grows the 
broad-leaved golden-rod, also with axillary 
flowers. The splendid Solidago speciosa, and 
the almost equally handsome, rigid-leaved gold- 
en-rod, grow within our limits. One species, as 
has been mentioned, is white ; at least, the rays 
are whitish, while the disk flowers are yellow. 
The result is a cream color. 

The asters within our range are equally 
numerous. Their blue or white stars peep from 
every thicket. Sometimes large and showy 
heads of blossoms, worthy the attention of the 
gardener, entice the passerby with rays of lapi& 
lazuli ; and again a bushy species, almost leaf- 
less in appearance, will be white with radiant 
stars. It is hard to tell which species is the 
most beautiful, but we are inclined to aw^ard the 
palm to the New England aster par excellence. 



98 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

It is very tall, and when in full bloom shows a 
solid mass of royal purple flowers. It does well 
in cultivation, spreading to an amazing extent. 
Almost equally beautiful is the smooth, deep 
blue Aster Icevis. Very various are the loca- 
tions in which asters are found. Many prefer 
the dusty sides of roads or sandy plains. Others 
will be seen in deep woods only. Some will 
grow in copses, others near the coast, and two 
species actually in salt marshes. 

There is something about the time at which 
these flowers bloom — the clear, cool September 
days, when the sky is washed out clean, and its 
blue incomparable ; when the air at night is 
mildly frosty, and the blood is tingling with 
accelerated life, that makes one love them dear- 
ly. Each year they seem more beautiful. 

Other very showy composites at this season 
are bur-marigolds of the swamps. Often we 
have seen a marsh aglow with them, much as in 
Spring it may be with the caltha. The rays 
are an inch long, making a splendid star. The 
rare rose-flowered coreopsis lingers also into 
September, and we have sunflowers innumer- 
able. 

The fringed gentian claims the most perfect 
days of all the year; those days when it is 
enough to breathe the air, and to revel in the 
beauty of creation ; dreamy days, full of peace 
and blissful sadness. 

There are those that fancy this is like the box- 
gentian, and never unfolds its silken lashes. 



SEPTEMBER. 99 

Believe tliem not ; its " sweet and quiet eye " is 
too pure and holy and faith-giving to be hidden 
always from poor doubting man. Bryant was a 
true lover of this beauty, and sings her story so 
sweetly that it always seems a sin to add one 
word of praise. He knows the very time to find 
it ; the gentian atmosphere is breathed through- 
out his poem. On such a day, the first of Sep- 
tember, 1895, we climbed a hill in Conway, 
Mass., and half way up found one sunny blos- 
som of the gentian. How exquisite it seemed, 
well as we had known it always ! It made a red- 
letter day. 

We speak of the blue fringed gentian, but it 
is not blue but violet-purple. If we place it 
beside the gems of the forget-me-not we can 
s6e a contrast, yet even these are not pure blue. 

Another plant that grows with the Autumn 
beauty is the sweet-scented maiden's-tresses, an 
orchid with cream-colored flowers arranged 
spirally on a straight, erect stem. In making a 
bouquet we should never forget these loving 
relations. 

"Thou waitest late and comest alone," sings 
the poet, but he only means that the gentian 
survives after almost all the other flowers have 
departed ; not that it is alone when it first opens 
in September. There is, perhaps, no time in 
the year when the forests and meads are more 
profusely adorned with flowers. Three weeks 
ago the woods were comparatively sombre, the 
roadsides and river-banks dusty and colorless. 

9 



100 NE W ENGLAND WILD EL WERS. 

Suddenly Nature touches some hidden spring 
and all things burst forth in triumph. 

The gentian days, the " dies gentiance" have 
indeed arrived. The poison-ivy is flinging her 
gorgeous banners of orange and yellow from 
the " outward wall," to welcome her sovereign 
Autumn; the woodbine, clad in scarlet, climbs 
up the loftiest trees to have a look; the red 
maple lights up his signal fires, and the sumac 
unfurls her royal ensign. The blushing poke- 
weed comes with clusters of purple berries as 
an offering; the clematis presents its feathery 
garlands ; and the grasses, those gallant spear- 
men, bow their heads as the princess passes by. 
Each tree has a color of its own. The suppliant 
birch is bedight with yellow; the trembling 
aspen still wears the green ; the cornel is robed 
in mourning, and the oaks begin to don the 
russet. The sassafras is in motley raiment, 
"the only wear," and the leaves are of many 
shapes and colors. The blue-berries are in 
claret costume, and will make it do good ser- 
vice till the middle of November. The hickories 
incline to yellow ; they wear a burnished armor 
of their own. A hickory in full color is a sight 
worth seeing. Stand at the foot of one of these 
sinewy trees and gaze up into the golden tent 
above you, and you will feel gradually suffused 
with the glow, as if you had partaken of some 
rare and mellow wine. The ferns, before they 
wither, assume rich umber tints and are glorious 
in color. Some of them bleach out white, and 



SEPTEMBER. 101 

are then like the ghosts of leaves. If we add 
to our list the coral beads of Jack-in-the-pulpit, 
who has gone over to the old church ; the red 
ear-drops of the barberry, and the luscious 
amethystine globes of the grape, we will have 
mentioned only a few of the attractions of Sep- 
tember. 

A beautiful flower of these late days is the 
grass of Parnassus. It belongs to the saxi- 
frage family, but has an anemone-like appear- 
ance. Its solitary white flowers, prettily 
streaked with green, are borne on scape-like 
stems, from the midst of a group of roundish 
heart-shaped, thick leaves. There are five true 
stamens, and at the base of each of the five 
petals a group of peculiar, gland-tipped fila- 
ments. These are said to be deceptive organs, 
alluring insects to a Barmecide feast. 



OCTOBER. 



9* 



MAPLES. 

Like Grecian hero of the ancient days, 
I silent stand in wonder and amaze, 
Within October's dreamy veil of haze. 

While round me leaves are falling everywhere, 
With gentle motion through the ambient air, 
Their gold seems sifted into something rare. 

The far-famed garden of Hesperides 
Showed nothing fairer to old Hercules, 
Than yonder golden glory of the trees. 

Nor yet would Jason and his comrades bold 
Have sought in Colchis for the fleece of gold, 
Had they but known the prize our maples hold. 



OCTOBER. 

"Who can paint like Nature? Can imagination boast 
Amid its gay creation, hues like hers? " 

— Thornton. 

The October atmosphere possesses an inde- 
scribable softness, and the sky a rich full blue 
peculiar to the season. Asters are now beyond 
their prime — but still very beautiful as they 
linger by copse and path-way. From now till 
the middle of November there are colors in the 
forest to delight an artist's eye. We do not 
speak so much of the gorgeous tints of maple, 
sumac, and birch, as of those shades of umber, 
of brown, and purple which grow fairer every 
day. 

The asters, we have said, are nearly gone. So 
are the golden-rods, their loved companions. 
Still, we find a few of both in thickets or on 
road -sides. The beautiful wavy -leafed aster 
lingers late, and so does the axile flowered 
golden-rod, with its pretty yellow flowers in 
the axils of the leaves. 

Much has been written of the fringed gentian 
but not too much. It is one of the few flowers 
that have their niche in American poetry. Many 
remain to be enshrined till our natives become 



106 XEW ESGLASD WILD FLOWERS. 

as familiar in one sense as is the primrose, the 
violet, and the daisy, in the ballad literature of 
England. The gentian is ever new and ever 
beautiful ; fresh, cool, delicate, loving, and withal 
most lovable. It is one of those flowers which 
seem to possess a soul, a something responsive 
to our human sympathy. It knows very well 
how much sadness there is in this life of ours, 
but its counsel is ever hopeful and cheery. "We 
feel in looking at it, that better days will come, 
if not here, at least in some dim-discovered 
future. 

Sometimes a bee will plunge into the corolla, 
head foremost, maybe intoxicated by the nectar. 
It is pretty to see the soft fringed lids close 
round him. 

The ferns, though somewhat past their glory, 
are very lovely still. The Dicksonias are especi- 
ally elegant in green and gold. Their tracery 
is beyond all expression delicate. They often 
fade out white, when they are exceedingly 
dream-like and beautiful. Occasionally one 
will be found half green and half yellow ; Sum- 
mer and Autumn side by side. 

As we stroll by the bank of some rivulet, 
under over-arching birches, the sunlight is 
sifted through the golden leaves. It falls 
upon us in trembling gleams and shadows. Our 
-eyes follow the narrow pathway winding up the 
hill and lost in mysterious foliage. So like is 
the scene to some Tennysonian word picture, 
that we almost expect to see Sir Launcelot or 



OCTOBER. 107 

Sir Galahad in silver mail, descend the way on 
horseback. We note the sunlight glance from 
the armor; we observe the tossing of the 
knightly plume. The weird excrescences upon 
the oak-trees, gnarled and grim, seem like gob- 
lins which this chivalry is to conquer. It is 
difficult to believe that there has not been a 
combat here, for we find the maple leaves be- 
spattered as with blood. The crimsoned foliage 
is the relic of the conflict. 

Again, we imagine an older time and a fairer 
land and drift into the hazy realm of mythology. 
The odor of " lif e-ever-lasting " will at once 
produce a subtle transmigration. 

We have seen a picture-book unreal in its 
wealth of color, yet Nature is more extravagant 
than any painter. "We once witnessed an Oc- 
tober pageant in the woods of northern Ver- 
mont, which surpassed the wildest artist's 
dream. Nature spares no color; she is lavish 
with the palate. Sometimes neglecting the rest 
of the picture, she will throw one tree into high 
relief, and paint it in some gaudy dye. She 
makes the very water, reflecting the forest, to 
glow with brilliant colors. Not only are the 
leaves suberb in color, but their shapes are in- 
finite and their texture varied. Beauty and 
grace of attire are added to delicacy of hue. 
The sumacs hang out their leaflets in rows like 
the trophy banners in St. George's Chapel. See 
that hickory clothed in yellow, that beech in 
richest brown, that ash in olive green or umber, 



L08 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

that cornel in maroon, that chestnut in gold! 
Every tree has a color of its own, and the air 
itself seems to inbibe the sum of all, until we 
feel as if Ave were breathing color. Let the 
dwellers in the tropics boast as they niay of 
gorgeous flowers, of palms and ferns, and 
orchids, we would rather have one hour of our 
-American Autumn than "a cycle of Cathay." 

The leaves are falling one by one, 
The clematis has nearly spun 
Her feathery cap, and golden ferns 
Are seen where'er the woodsman turns. 

J Tis pleasant now, "in good green wood," 
Where, like some errant Kobin Hood, 
We wander, walking all day long, 
Or wake the forest glades with song. 

Upon the stream in silence floats 

A leafy fleet of fairy boats , 

Aud far above, in azure sky, 

The clouds, like ships, are sailing by. 

As the month advances Nature throws her 
beautiful patterns upon the ground. We hesi- 
tate to tread upon anything so beautiful, but 
she does not raise her hand to save them. She 
knows that her fancy can reproduce what is of 
necessity destroyed. With the scissors she can 
use so well she will clip out new leaves for the 
coming season, and each tree shall resume its 
favorite outline. Indeed, even now, in the little 
buds that are packed away so nicely with over- 
lapping scales and waterproof varnish, we can 



OCTOBER. 109' 

detect the forms of next year's foliage, A 
charming carpet is spread for us, but its tints 
are fleeting and its texture delicate. Some 
of the trees are quite bare, while at their feet 
still lie their golden summer garments. 

Even at this late season there are beautiful 
colors surviving in the forest. One can gather 
a whole handful of lingering flowers. The fair,, 
fringed gentian continues throughout the 
month ; an occasional golden-rod gleams bright- 
ly amidst the low bushes, and a blue aster, like 
some lost pleiad, twinkles from amidst the fallen 
leaves. By the river bank are a few blossoms 
of evening primrose surmounting a long stem 
of pods. Certain common Spring weeds, too, 
have a second period of flowering. The yarrow 
particularly rejoices in spreading out its white 
clusters to the sun, and seems oblivious of com- 
ing frosts. The little self-heal may also fre- 
quently be found, and the Autumn dandelion, 
true to its name at this season, if at no other, 
bespangles the green grass. This plant has a 
peculiar fancy for lingering about old college 
buildings, as if it were an alumnus revisiting its 
loved alma mater. The May-weed is still in 
flower, and even an ox-eye daisy may be found. 
The charming forget-me-not still utters its 
plaintive entreaty, with a tear-drop in its eye of 
blue. From earliest Spring till the latest days 
of Autumn this pretty flower offers us its azure 
gems. 

A true Autumn flower, perhaps the very last, 



110 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

is the witch-hazel, whose singular yellow blos- 
soms attract attention in the woods. It grows 
along streams, and is a bush of varying size. 
The flowers have a spider-like appearance, and 
the fruit which matures next year explodes with 
the noise of a little pistol, scattering the shining 
seeds. This is the plant which the gold-diggers 
and water-seekers used as a divining rod, and 
which certain credulous persons still believe in. 
As the plant which dares to stand at the foot of 
the class, as it were, and blossom last, it is in- 
teresting. 

The poke-weed, loved of Thoreau, is at this 
season one of our handsomest plants. Its pend- 
ant clusters of purple berries, threaded together 
by a stem of crimson, are still seen beside the 
roads. Often, the whole stem system of the plant 
will be ruddy. It is certainly regal in its aspect. 

In the last days of the month, and when most 
of the leaves have fallen, one can still collect 
from those that remain a beautiful bouquet. 
Many of the oaks retain their splendid colors, 
which, like the windows of cathedrals, should 
be seen when translucent with the declining 
sun-light. Indeed, in looking at them, the feel- 
ing of reverence is inspired, and the " long- 
drawn aisle " recalled. 

The bay-berry is still green and fragrant ; the 
laurel's glossy verdure is on hand for Christ- 
mas; a belated maple shows us an exquisite 
silhouette in red and yellow ; the aspen shakes 
in our faces its tantalizing golden dollars ; the 



OCTOBER. Ill 

hickory glows with a promise of future back- 
logs and nuts; the wrecked sumacs fly their 
signals of distress, and the huckleberries stud 
the billowy meadows with islands of ruddy 
beauty. Long after all else is faded, one finds 
the bright, glossy leaves of the green brier, and 
the claret-colored vines of dewberry. 

The approach of Winter is by most persons 
hailed with dread. TVhen we see the leaves 
falling from the trees, or lying dead and tramp- 
led on the side-walks, it is hard to believe that 
verdure can ever return ; that there will again be 
fresh leaves and flowers. Autumn, even in its 
rare, beautiful aspects, is sad. There is an in- 
definable something in the air, in the very col- 
ors we admire, that makes us more or less de- 
spondent. Winter itself is not so depressing 
as late Autumn. 

AVhen the snow has once arrived and the mer- 
cury sinks to its winter mean, we are prepared 
for the worst, and consequently enjoy every re- 
spite that Nature affords. At present, in Octo- 
ber, we are still looking for Indian summer and 
other delusive pleasures that may or may not 
come; we do not accept things as they are. 
Still, if we have eyes to see it, there is much 
beauty in these late Autumnal clays. The morn- 
ing mist that hangs over lake and river, the 
smoke curling up from the villages, the brown 
meadows — all offer incomparable attractions. 
The vivid hues of the earlier season are not so 
grateful to the eye as the rich clarets and 



112 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

browns, the maroons and ambers, and neutral 
tints of these later days. 

But even now we have brilliant colors. Some 
of the oaks are positively glorious, a few maples 
yet retain their golden foliage ; and the huckle- 
berry bushes in the pastures seem to burn and 
glow with color. AVe love to walk through the 
fallen leaves and inhale their invigorating odor. 
How thickly they mantle the forest streams ! 
How endless are their patterns ! Infinite as is 
the variety of flowers, they do not present the 
diversity exhibited by leaves. Here Nature 
seems to have revelled in her resources. 

Give us, said some one, two Junes and two 
Octobers, and we will gladly dispense with Au- 
gust. Certainly these still, dreamy days are a 
benison. The most prosaic man now becomes 
thoughtful. He revolves rhymes and thinks 
out poems. He is a child again, with a child's 
dreams and fantasies. As these, though wild, 
are pure and innocent, we cannot condemn the 
visionary. Who can say where the dream ends 
and reality begins? 



NOVEMBER. 



THE LAST LEAF. 

I've bathed in April showers; 

I've welcomed summer showers; 
I've blushed in autumn sun, 

To think of all I've done. 

But now my daj^s are o'er, 

I'll never whisper more 
My story in the breeze, 

To all the listening trees. 

I end my trembling quest; 

I've gained the promised rest. — 
At pence with all to lie, 

Thou sad old world, good-bye! 



NOVEMBER. 

"O shadow sister of summer! 

Astray from the world of dreams, 
Thou wraith of the bloom departed, 
Thou echo of spring-tide streams, 
Thou moon-light and star-light vision 

Of a day that will come no more, 

Would that our love might win thee 

To dwell on this stormy shore!" 

— Frances L. Mace. 

Vse often think that trees are as beautiful in 
their unclrapecl condition as when clothed with 
foliage. Each has its peculiarity of branching 
and makes its own silhouette against the sky. 
I doff my hat to some old elm whose quaint 
branches twist and turn like the locks of a 
mighty gorgon. It is ever beautiful — now when 
the limbs are bare ; in Spring when the brown 
buds cover it, and in Summer when it is piled 
high with green. Note the magnificent but- 
tresses of the trunk. 

How^ characteristic, by the way, are the boles 

of trees, each as individual as a human face. 

Take the ridged and mossy elm; the clean, 

gray r , mottled beech ; the chestnut, smooth and 

polished when young ; long-scored when old ; 

the iron-wood, with its tense muscles standing 

out like those of a wrestler ; the ash, with its 
10* 



116 NEW ENGLAXD WILD FLOWERS. 

close intricacy of creases and ridges ; the hick- 
ory, with tough, resistant columns, and the 
snow-white shaft of the lady -birch. 

Consider the various buds. How marvellous 
is their provision for protection! Here are, for 
instance, those of the horse-chestnut, varnished 
without, and within packed with soft, warm 
avooI. The hickory has almost coriaceous scales ; 
a neat bundle in all cases. Then see the infinite 
variety of shapes, from the long pointed bud of 
the beech to the insignificant ones of the ash, or 
the green and prominent ones of the lilac. From 
these buds we can learn the future manner of 
branching, as also the position of leaves. The 
crescentic stars beneath the buds show where 
the foliage once stood. If then, the buds are 
now opposite, so were, and will be, the leaves. 

The fall of the leaf is a curious matter. Early 
in the season in many plants, trees especially, 
there begins to be formed a line of separation 
between leaf-stalk and parent-stem. This, as 
the season advances, grows deeper, until finally 
the attachment is only nominal. Then mere 
gravity, the disturbance by wind or rain is enough 
to detach the leaf. If frost should occur, a layer 
of ice is formed at this incision, and all the 
leaves fall, as we often see in the horse chestnut, 
as if by word of command. The piles of fallen 
leaves are themselves interesting. Fresh, glossy, 
sweet smelling at first, they soon become dry 
and wrinkled. Thoreau has aptly compared 
some dried leaves to the tin and iron cuttings 



& 



NO VEMBER. 117 

around a foundry. The likeness is often very 
marked. 

How infinite are the forms of these fallen 
leaves! Nature, in fashioning them, indulges 
in the wildest vagaries and fancies. It is inter- 
esting to pick up some clean, well-marked leaf, 
like that of the tulip tree or a magnolia, or the 
sugar maple, and study its marvellous veining. 
See how, in many cases, the margin is reinforced 
to prevent lashing by the wind. This is done 
by means of arches and counter-arches. A 
skillful architect is here. 

Even now the woods are not devoid of green. 
Besides the pines, junipers, hemlock and spruce, 
we find the mountain laurel, the rose-bay, and 
the holly, holding their leaves. Many herba- 
ceous plants, too, are evergreen, like the prince's 
pine, and then we have the lovely forms of club- 
moss, and the true mosses. 

Craunch! sounds the earth, as each reckless 
footstep maybe demolishes a palace. Jack 
Frost has been busy under ground. 

" No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung, 
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung." 

The edifice arose silently in the night, the ice- 
columns raising the soil above them, and re- 
vealing halls which Aladdin might have cov- 
etted. The architect does not confine himself 
to Corinthian, Doric, or any established human 
style, but evolves a principle of his own, which 
for beauty and unity is unequalled by any effort 



118 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

of man. Nor lias lie been idle above ground, 
for we find each faded flower, each blade of 
grass, transfigured by his touch and gleaming 
with iridescent facets. Where the spider has 
thrown his silken cable from one object to an- 
other the busy spirit has hung his icy lanterns 
gay with rainbow colors. He has laid his hand 
upon the ferns, and their lace work spangles 
with diamonds ; upon the mosses, and a steel- 
clad army of spearmen arises. Not yet desirous 
of bridging larger streams, he is content to 
-span the rivulets ; nor does he yet trace upon 
our window-panes the marvellous patterns we 
in winter admire. His present work is merely 
to idealize, and in this he is successful, for 
naught escapes his beautifying touch. 

These later days of Autumn are indeed de- 
lightful. In early morning, wrapped in warm 
apparel, Ave dash along the meadows, breathing 
the delicious air. It tastes as fresh and invig- 
orating as ice-water in August, and we have 
three times the force we then had. Indeed, we 
are prepared to lead a storming party or to 
write an epic. With such joyous spirit tingling 
in our veins there is nothing beyond our power. 
Later in the day the warm sunlight causes us to 
remove our extra garments, and beams upon us 
with a genial influence unfelt at any other sea- 
son. This is not the time to seek the shrub, so, 
basking under the southern exposure of the 
house, we watch the wasps as they lazily at- 
tempt to climb the windows, and, Sisyphus-like, 



NOVEMBER. 119 

fall back, only to attempt the futile task once 
more. The old cat, cosily purring away the 
hours, half-opens an eye as some belated butter- 
fly flits to a lingering aster, or a painted leaflet 
drops silently by her side. The "sound of 
dropping nuts is heard, though all the woods 
are still," and merry children troop to the forest 
to gather treasure. Surely some of our happi- 
est recollections are associated with nut-gather- 
ing. How beautiful often are the nuts them- 
selves, and how neatly packed away in velvet 
caskets armed without with spines. 

Sometime in November, authorities differ as 
to the date, comes a period known as Indian 
summer. We like to think it is what the 
Acadians called "the summer of all Saints," 
which would locate it in the early part of the 
month. Whenever it comes, and it is variable, 
and sometimes comes not at all, we all know it. 
In the morning there is a mist, which later 
lingers as a delicious haze, toning down the 
outlines of familiar objects, and rendering them 
strange and dream-like. These mists sometimes 
produce a sort of mirage and show us objects 
which, in reality, do not exist. Nature gets up 
a little smoke, as it were, to hide her transforma- 
tion scenes. 

The brown slopes of the hills are now em- 
purpled by the wild indigo. They wear a sort 
of ecclesiastical mourning tint. The clumps of 
bay-berries too, are of a bronzy color, while the 
fruit itself is a beautiful whitish gray. The de- 



120 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

licious aroma of these berries is a true wood 
odor, full of charming suggestions. 

We come to a beautiful grove in a hollow. It 
is now denuded of its foliage and wears a sub- 
dued gray tint ; beyond this is another wood of 
oak, still in its ruddy color. In the distance 
the blue of the sky, where filmy clouds are 
sleeping, is mingled with the drowsy haze of 
the earth. 

A curious effect is given to the leaves at this 
time by their upturned edges, which reveal the 
glaucous surface of the under sides. The water 
of the little pond sparkles like a gem. 

As we saunter Ave pick up the belated odds 
and ends of flowers or fruit ; here the tip of an 
aster still holding its azure star ; there a white 
yarrow, in its name recalling sweet ballads of 
our home over the great water. TTe pluck 
large masses of rose-hips now dyed and pol- 
ished, and as brilliant as a necklace of rubies. 
It is a proper fruit to follow the delicate, 
heaven-scented flowers of June. 

" O'er the earth there comes a bloom ; 
Sunny light for sullen gloom, 
Warm perfume for vapor cold — 
I smell the rose above the mould." 

To our bouquet we now add the half-opened 
pods of milk-weed, revealing the floss within; 
the gray fruit of the bay -berry, the red of holly, 
and the downy pappus of hawk-weed and wild 
lettuce. By the marsh we find the tassels of 
•alder and hazel well developed. 



NOVEMBER. 121 

11 Spring and Summer here dance hand in hand." ■ 

We can hardly realize that these are to he the 
flowers of another season — the pretty swinging 
pendants of showery April. It is interesting too, 
to note how large and seemingly far advanced 
are next year's buds. During the Summer the 
leaves have concealed them, but now they are 
very prominent, especially upon the white 
azalea. 

We stop to gather a few wreaths of "creep- 
ing-jenny" and spires of ground-pine, and walk 
on towards the river. Surely no more beautiful 
time ever existed. It is All Saints Day, and we 
think the blessed are with us for there is a 
sweet calm in accord with their actual presence. 
We feel it and are glad in it. May it come to 
all who are weary and sorrow-laden! 

The shadows on the river are beautiful be- 
yond description. The inverted woods are col- 
ored nearly like those they reflect. The whole 
view is like a picture, one by some master hand. 
a poet as well as painter. 

" Filled is the air with a dreamy and magical light ; 

And the landscape 
Lies as if new created in all the freshness of childhood,'* 

"We pause to rest upon an old stump, and 
marvel long and deep. Oh, that we could see 
beyond the veil of mist, so light, so beautiful, 
yet so impenetrable ! 

The Polaris expedition brought back from 



122 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

80° north a dandelion found in full bloom. 
Flowering plants of Alpine habits thrive in 
Spitzbergen and Nova Zembla, and our own 
little chick-weed blooms with us even in winter. 
Hence there is no need to be surprised at any 
exhibition of vital tenacity in the plant world. 
We see most charming flowers blooming by the 
sides of glaciers or near to the perpetual snow, 
and in such places they do not seem unnatural ; 
yet when we glean here our aftermath of yar- 
row and groundsel we remark upon it as strange. 
The May-weed, a facetious misnomer, blooms 
on still, and so does a stray carrot and the 
bouncing bet. We cherish every blossom that 
thus lingers on the threshold of Winter. 



WINTER. 



11 



My tree stands clothed in panoply of ice, 
Above her head a single radiant star ; 

Her raiment sparkles with each rare device ; 
With diamonds, pearls, and rubies from afar. 

Gleams as of opal from her branches glow, 

And many tinkles as of little bells, 
Fill all the air with sweet melodious flow, 

Like distant chimes in whispering farewells. 

The sturdy boughs now surge with every breeze, 
With fairy grandeur startling my fixed gaze, 

My ej r e each moment does some beauty seize, 
The changing light some rarer gem displays. 

O, can I not this crystal marvel keep, 
Surpassing far Aladdin's famous hall ? 

A vision as of one in hasheesh sleep, 
W 7 ho sees new glories rising to his call ? 

Let not this wealth transcendent disappear, 
O magic genius, stay thy ruthless will ! 

Grant that this crowning glory of the year 
Unchanged remain to charm my senses still ! 



WINTER. 

11 Winter, thou ruler of the inverted year." 

— Thomson, 

Winter is, with us, a favorite season. To be 
sure we do not now have the green fields, the 
leafy woods, the flowers and the life of Summer, 
but there is much that compensates for all these. 
In Summer the home circle is apt to be broken; 
our friends leave the city, and we feel like a 
pilgrim ourselves, liable to move on. Then too, 
we are subjected to the plague of flies and 
mosquitoes. But in winter we have the fireside 
pleasures which none other on earth can equal. 
Happy is the man who, after his day of toil, is 
sure of finding a welcome from glad faces, and 
the sweet voice of children to cheer his leisure 
hours ! 

Winter, viewed in some respects, is certainly 
objectionable. One especially objects to the cur- 
tailment of his walks. It requires sometimes 
good courage to walk up and down the slippery 
hills. The penitential ashes may be strewed in 
vain. Then, on other days, we are prevented 
from seeking the exercise which prudence de- 
mands by the depth of the snow, or its sherbet- 
like condition. There is not much delight in 



126 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

wading to one's knees in snow-water. Again, 
the mercury sinks to the wee small figures of 
Fahrenheit's scale, and we shudder with the 
cold. 

At such times we extemporize a walk and 
pace up and down our apartments like a second 
prisoner of Chillon, repeating odds and ends of 
poetry — from Watts Hymns to the Idylls of the 
King. 

It is by no means impossible, however, to 
enjoy a good walk in winter. Some of the 
pleasantest we recall were taken in that season. 
All that is necessary to comfort is secure foot- 
ing, warm clothing, and congenial companion- 
ship. If the air is sufficiently ozonized, we 
dash along in fine style, plunging through snow 
sliding over gutters, climbing fences at a 
bound. If it is snowing and blowing, all the 
better. The storm imparts a healthy tingle to 
the cheeks. 

We meet friends who nod us a hasty recog- 
nition and are out of sight in a moment. Now 
we meet fewer and fewer persons ; the billowy 
snow is marked by only occasional footsteps, 
and finally we have an unexplored field before 
us, and the foliage of the sombre pines. Under 
the trees that are sighing in the wind we try to 
find our summer sanctum, but all in vain ; there 
is nothing recognizable. Winter is a great 
transmuter and magician. It is difficult to be- 
lieve that under this fleecy counterpane the 
violets are quietly sleeping, and will rise at the 



WINTER. 127 

trumpet-call of spring. To test our faith in this 
life to come, we snap a twig of maple and find 
it green and juicy. In a few months more its 
buds will burst their casements and blossom 
into beauty. 

Nature to be won, must be wooed, and that, too, 
in all her many humors. It will not do to visit 
her only when she smiles, but we must view her 
when her company manners are put aside for 
her own ease. The heart that truly seeks her — 
always finds. She does not tell all she knows ; 
that would be folly. But she does confide very 
much in her familiar moments. To know all 
her graces, we must court her in storms as well 
as in sunshine, and study the blossoms of the 
frost as we would the blossoms of the field. 
True, such a pursuit is attended by discomforts, 
yet no weather is so bad as it looks. We have 
encountered nearly all the moods of very variable 
winters. When she smiles, we must be merry 
with her; when she weeps, we must be pres- 
ent to console. I think, sometimes, that we love 
her best when she storms, seizing the great 
oaks by their tops and whirling them about, or 
blowing the fallen leaves in stormy mazurkas. 

After a slight snow-fall, we seek the woods. 
A pretty stream, an Undine -chen, meanders 
through the valley, not frozen over, but merely 
bounded by a fringe of ice. It sings some 
pleasant story of the summer violets ; the words 
escape us, but the music lingers still. Oc- 
casionally the rivulet dimples ail over with 



L28 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

smiles, or will even laugh with a ripple of glee. 
On the still pools are sailing leaf-gondolas of 
curious pattern. They seem to have no par- 
ticular port in view, but if they are steered by 
invisible sprites, the little fellows do not care to 
land. Perhaps the touching of mother earth 
would reveal them. Sometimes an eddy will 
catch the skiffs and whirl them about in a man- 
ner to make their possible passengers unhappy. 
Doubtless they are provided with a panacea 
against the evils of the deep. 

Great fern feathers, unwithered by the frost, 
at intervals droop over the brook. The trees 
interlace their branches overhead, and sing a 
wild accompaniment to the music of the water. 
Some of them are hoary fellows, with beards of 
gray lichen tufting their chins, and some have 
graceful vine-companions that hang lovingly 
about them. The oaks still hold their brown 
mementoes of summer, a x>retty back-ground to 
a winter picture. 

All life appears to require periods of rest. 
There must be a quiescent time for all created 
things to recuperate their forces. In our cli- 
mate winter, and in the tropics the dry season, 
offer such opportunities. Quiet as our trees 
and smaller plants now are, they are in fact 
surcharged with abundant life. The warm sun- 
light only is required, together with the tepid 
rains of spring to reclothe them with green. 
Indeed there is more active life going on among 
plants in winter than any one at first suspects. 



WINTER. 129 

Now is the time when bulbs, root-stocks and 
certain other subterranean forms of stem, are 
either putting in their good work, or preparing 
therefor. Upturn any mass of leaves in a favor- 
able spot in the woods, and there will be re- 
vealed a lot of vigorous, aggressive looking 
buds, ready for the spring contest. For all 
plant life, like that of animals, is a battle, the 
more vigorous or the better endowed ultimately 
crowding out the weaker or less well provided. 
It is not always mere strength that conquers, 
but neat adaption or careful foresight, if we 
may so speak, in taking advantage of errors on 
the part of the enemy. Every plant must be 
alert, on guard, lest the foe surprise it. 

Among the most obvious aspects of winter 
life among plants, is the appearance of the leaf- 
less trees. Each one has a character of its own. 
One old elm writhes and twists his giant limbs 
like some huge hydra; the graceful poplars 
tower straight and tall, every branch aspiring ; 
the oaks are examples of sturdy resistance ; 
the hickories of Yankee subtlety and pliant 
strength. How beautiful and yet how different 
are the twigs or sprays of all these ! 

The trunk of the elm dissolves into finer and 
finer branchlets; the fir maintains a straight 
spire clothed with its sombre green ; the tupelo 
shows a zigzag, free and easy, but characteristic 
branching ; the honey-locust a most beautiful 
silhouette of interlacing lines. Even the trunks 
of trees have a peculiarity of their own that 



130 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

every woodman knows. The beech possesses a 
smooth bark curiously mottled ; the white birch, 
as its name implies, a snowy surface that makes 
it a feature in the landscape, and the ash has a 
close ridged, well marked bole, while the iron- 
wood shows the tense sinews of an athlete. So 
characteristic are these features of the bark 
that one learns to infallibly know his tree and 
often its specie and variety by the clothes it 
wears. Of course it is in winter that such points 
are best seen. 

It is interesting to study the wrecks of the 
previous summer ; to see how many plants one 
can recognize by the debris. Many a pathetic 
ruin, beautiful even in decay, shows where a 
living plant once stood. See the miniature 
birds nest formed by the wild carrot. Frosted 
with ice it is indeed exquisite. How elegant 
are those prickly }3ods of thorn-apple ! Deco- 
rative artists long ago discovered their value in 
design. The long, four-valved pods of evening 
primrose linger into winter ; the wild pinks and 
bouncing-bet show pretty urns or chalices, 
while burs of various kinds ornament the way- 
side. Then, too, the Composites often retain 
their winged and feathery fruit, to distribute 
by installments as the chance offers. Winter 
transmutes these dry forms into exquisite ob- 
jects, bearding them with frost or clothing them 
with iridescent crystal. 

Berries are always a conspicuous feature in a 
winter scene. The most showy of these is un- 



WINTER. 131 

doubtedly the ilex or black alder. The leaves 
of this plant, unlike most hollies, are deciduous, 
and the twigs of the shrub are strewn with coral 
beads. They absolutely glow along the road- 
sides. Next to them in beauty hereabouts are 
the hawthorn berries and the hips of the wild 
rose. Sometimes a cluster of translucent bar- 
berries is found, even in midwinter. Of dark- 
colored fruit the most noticeable is the green 
brier, or wild smilax. In Rhode Island we also 
see everywhere the nearly black berries of buck- 
thorn. The junipers have a blue fruit, very 
pretty when seen in the dark masses of ever- 
green foliage. 

Speaking of evergreens calls to mind at once 
the frequency of green as a color even in the 
desolation of winter. All the conifers, except 
the larches, retain their leaves and all are 
beautiful. Then, among the higher classes, we 
find such plants as the Rhododendron and the 
Kalmia or mountain laurel. The sides of trees 
are clothed with green mosses and liver-worts ; 
the true mosses are often found, too, in fine 
shape on rocks or on the ground. Then, if we 
add the lichens, we greatly increase the range 
of color. 

Many of the smaller plants continue verdant, 
the prince's-pine, the rattle-snake-plantain, the 
checkerberry, and many ferns. The green-brier 
or round-leaved smilax, is lovely at this season. 
Some of the leaves are glossy green, others red 
or yellow, and still others elegantly bronzed. 



132 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Owing to tlieir rigidity, these leaves keep well 
indoors, and there is no prettier ornament than 
a long vine of green -brier trailed about a 
picture. It has clusters of very showy, dark 
blue berries, in appearance not unlike the fruit 
of the little frost grape. 

A more familiar ornament in winter decora- 
tion is the so-called black-alder, in reality a 
holly. The foliage is deciduous, and leaves the 
scarlet berries very prominent. These are much 
used in Christmas wreaths and crosses. The 
berries are, however, more beautiful when seen 
in the swamps, often glazed over with a cuirass 
of ice. The Roxbury wax-work is equally 
showy. It is sometimes known as climbing 
bitter-sweet, and must not be confounded with 
the nightshade of the same name. The yellow 
pods open and reveal a scarlet aril-covered seed. 
The climbing or twining habit of the plant 
makes it very graceful. 

As long as there is no snow upon the ground, 
and there occurs an occasionally sunny day, we 
may find, late in December, some stray flowers 
of the earlier months. Dandelions not infre- 
quently bloom even as late as Christmas, but 
this little plant is very hardy — as it extends to 
the Poles. As for the tiny chick weed, beloved 
of canary birds, its blossoms are with us all 
winter. The severest weather only checks for 
a time the presumption of this valiant plant ; it 
is a member of the Alpine Club of plants, and 
misrht climb the Matterhorn or Mount Blanc. 



WINTER. 133 

Only let the sun shine upon it, and lo! out- 
beams its galaxy. 

Among the weeds that linger latest are the 
yarrow, the evening-primrose, the bouncing-bet, 
the butter-and-eggs, and the self-heal. Certain 
butterfles remain as long. I have seen Vanessa 
AntiojM, the Camberwell Beauty, floating 
through the thickets, like an exile queen, a 
sort of Margaret of Anjou, mourning her former 
grandeur. 

The tangles, or brambles, certain species of 
black-berry, preserve their autumnal colors all 
winter. These shrivel when brought in-doors, 
but in the woods are fresh at all seasons. It 
is the bramble of which old Elliott sings so 
sweetly : 

"Thy fruit full well the school-boy knows, 

Wild bramble of the brake ! 
So, put thou forth thy small white rose, 

I love it for his sake. 
Though wood -briers flaunt and roses glow 

O'er all the fragrant bowers, 
Thou needst not be ashamed to show 

Thy satin-threaded flowers." 

Spicily fragrant is the bay -berry, which long 
retains its leaves. Its gray clusters of fruit 
survive the foliage, and are used in making 
tallow. 

The microscope reveals wonders of structure* 
in the mosses, lichens, and fungi. Some of 
these we have all winter. Certain fungi are- 
seen projecting from the trees like a series of; 



13i NEW ENGLAND WILD FLO WEBS. 

brackets, each one ornamented with concentric 
rings of black and white. There is no better 
time for collecting mosses than the present. 
Wrap the specimens in paper, with the name, 
locality, and date of collection. Whether known 
or not, collect ; names may be determined later. 
In winter if one is a collector he has all his sum- 
mer stores to examine. Often as he turns them 
over, he is led in imagination to the spot where he 
found them. Suppose it is a collection of plants 
he is viewing. Each specimen will recall pleas- 
ant scenes and delightful companionship. The 
storm outside has no longer a voice ; he is in 
the woods with his pets, breathing sweet per- 
fumes of leaves and flowers, listening to the 
merry birds, or chasing gaudy butterflies. The 
memory of the noon-day heat comes back to 
him ; the little spring, half buried in moss, and 
fringed with ferns, the over-arching birches, 
and the "checquered shade." 

It is the best time, too, to study buds and 
branches. The hazels, alders, birches, poplars, 
and sweet-ferns ; the iron-wood, the hop-horn- 
beam, even now show their tassels. They are 
closely compacted, each scale closing over the 
minute flowers, but many of them can be coaxed 
out in the house. It is always a delight to see 
them evolve, — the light, {)enclulous, graceful 
"tags" of alder are an especial joy. It is not 
an unusual thing to see the silver-leaf maple in 
full flower in February. 

Crocuses and snow -drops sometimes shiver 



WINTER. 135 

into bloom on sunny banks before the calendar 
ever mentions Spring. It is not, after all, 
astonishing. Do not the most delicate of plants 
embrace the feet of alpine snow-drifts? On 
the top of Mt. Washington, when the tourist is 
hugging his overcoat or shawl about him, the 
little mountain sand-wort is fluttering its white 
blossoms in the wind. By the Lake of the 
Clouds, fed by icy streams which one hears 
murmuring under the rocks beneath him, there 
grows, in summer, a perfect garden of flowers. 

There is no time so good as this for learning 
the actual shape of trees. Look at the spire of 
the maple, the fountain-like spray of the elm, 
or the rounded silhouette of the horse-chestnut. 
Break off a branch, tack it against a wall and 
sketch it. You will discover beauties of which 
you never dreamed. Open the buds. Observe 
that the naked trees are no mere skeletons. 
There are the little hands that will, ere long, 
beckon us back to the forest ! 



12 



INDEX OF PLANTS. 

Adder's-tougue . . , Erythronium Americanum 30 

Yellow Erythronium Americanum 15 

Alder Alnus sp 7, 8, 9, 120, 135 

Black Ilex verticillata 131, 132 

Andromeda Andromeda polifolia 17, 18 

Anemone Anemone nemorosa.3, 7, 8, 15, 24, 84 

Rue .Anemonella thcdictroides . . . .15, 24 

Star Trentalis Americana 16 

Syrian 41 

Wood Anemone nemorosa 15 

Anemonella Anemonella tlialictroides . ...... 15 

Arbutus, trailing Epigwa repens 19 

Arethusa Arethusa bulbosa . . 27, 40, 49, 50, 60 

Arnica Arnica Chamissonis 71 

Arrow-arum Peltandra undulata 61 

Ash Fraxinus sp ...107, 115, 116, 130 

Mountain Pyrus Americana 30, 67, 84 

Aspen Populus tremuloides 100, 110 

Aster Aster sp 

76, 83, 95, 97, 105, 109, 119, 120 

Acumerate-leaved.^ster acuminatus 67 

Golden topped . ...Chrysopsis falcata. , 64 

•New England . . .Aster JVovm-Anglice 88, 97 

White topped. . . Sericocarpus conyzoides 64, 82 

Avens, mountain Geum radiatum var. Peckii 71 

Azalea Rhododendron sp 17, 32 

Alpine Loiseleuria procumbens 70 

Dwarf Loiseleuria procumbens 72 

Pink Rhododendron raidiflorum 32 

White Rhododendron viscosvm 59, 64 



138 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Babies Breath Galium sp 61 

Balsam, wild Jmpatiens fulva 61 

Baneberry Aetma alba 84 

Barberry Berberis vulgaris... SI, 82, 100, 131 

Bayberry MyHca cerifera . .110, 119, 120, 133 

Bearberry Aretostaphylos alpina .70 

Bedstraw Galium sp 61 

Beech Fagus ferruginea 

25, 67, 107, 116, 130 

Bellwort, perfoliate Uvularia perfoliata 15 

Bilberry, bog Vaecinium uliginosum 70 

Bindweed Convolvulus sp 56, 57, 86 

Birch Betula sp. 

10, 25, 67, 69. 100, 105, 106, 116 

Dwarf Betula glandulosa 7 

White Betula populifolia 13) 

Birthwort Trillium sp .29 

Bishop's-cap Mitella sp 29 

Bishop weed, mock . . .Discopleura capillacea 87 

Bittercress, dwarf Gardamine bellidifolia 69 

Bittersweet Solarium Dulcamara 82 

Blackberry Bubus sp 133 

Bladderwort, common. . UtHcularia vulgaris 62 

Purple UtHcularia purpurea 61 

Yellow Utricularia vulgaris 61 

Bloodroot Sanguinaria Canadensis 15 

Blueberry Vaccinia ,n sp 18, 100 

Mountain Vaecinium ceespitosum 70 

Bluets Houstonia cmrulea 16 

Bouncing Bet Saponaria officinalis. . 122, 130, 132 

Bryanthus Bryanth a* taxifolius . 70 

Buck-bean Menyanthes trifoliata 26 

Buckthorn RTiamn us cathartica 131 

Bulrush, mountain Scirpus caespitosus .71 

Bunchberry Com u* Canadensis 30, 84 

Bur-marigold Bide us cTtrysantJteutoides.* .... 98 

Buttercup Ranuhaulus sp 4, 38, 42 



INDEX OF PLANTS. 139 

Butterwort Pinguicula vulgaris 70 

Butter and Eggs .Linaria vulgaris 55, 133 

Butterfly-weed Asclepias tuberosa. . 63 

Button bush Cepholantlius occidentalis. .... 64 

Calico bush Kalmia latifolia 40 

Calla Calla palustris 5 

Calopogon Calopogon pulcliellus 50, 60 

Caltha Caltha palustris. '. 98 

Calypso Calypso borealis , .27, 28 

Camphor weed Pluchea camphorata 86 

Campion, moss Silene acaitlis 69 

Cardinal-flower . Lobelia cardinalis..W, 76, 77, 83, 95 

Carrot, wild Daitcns carota 122, 130 

Cassia Cassia ehamcecrista 79 

Cassiope Cassiope liypnoides 70, 72 

Checkerberry Gaultlieria ■ procumbens 131 

Chestnut Casta nea sativa var. Americana, 

10, 108, 115 

Chickweed Stellaria media 5, 68, 122, 132 

Chicory. . . Cidiorium Lntybus 64, 95 

Chokeberry Pyrus arbutifolia 30 

Cinquefoil Potentilla Canadensis 15, 87 

Alpine Potentilla frigida 69 

Clematis Clematis Virginiana, 

81, 82, 83, 100 

Clethra ... Cletlira alnifolia 76, 83 

Clintonia Clintonia borealis 30, 84 

Cloudberry Rubus Chamaemorus 67, 71 

Clover Trifolium sp 37 

Hybrid Trifolium hybridum 43 

Columbine Aquilegia Canadensis 16 

Cone flower Rudbeckia Tdrta ... .40, 55 

Coreopsis Coreopsis rosea 98 

Cornel Comussp 100, 108 

Dwarf Cornv.s Canadensis 30 

Cowberry Vaccinium Vitis-Ldcm 71 

Cowslip (so-called) Caltha pcdustris 17 

12* 



1 4 NE W ENGLAND WILD FL WEES. 

Cow-wheat Melampyrum Amerieanum 59 

Cranberry, mountain. . .. Vacdnium Yitis-Idcea 71 

Creeping Jenny Lyeopodium oomplanatum 121 

Crocus Crocus verna 135 

Cudweed, mountain. . . . Guaphalium supinum 70 

Cycads Sago-palms 5 

Cypripedium Cypripedium acaule 27 

Daffodil Narcissus sp 42 

Daisy Chrysanthemum leueauthemum, 

4, 40, 42, 55, 60, 96 

Mountain Arenaria Groenlandica 68 

Orange Rudbeckia hirta 60 

Ox-eye Chrysanthemum leucantJiemum \ 

37, 109 

Dandelion Taraxacum densleonis, 

4, 13, 38, 96, 122, 132 

Autumn Leontodon autumnale 109 

Dewberry Rubus Canadensis Ill 

Devil's apron Laminaria Ill 

Diapensia Diapensia Lappa nica ... .68, 70. 72 

Dicksonia Dicksonia pileoscula 106 

Dodder Cuscuta Gronocii 80 

. Dogbane, spreading . . . Apocynum androsaemifolium . ..63 

Dogwood, flowering. ... Cornus florida 30 

Dulse 91 

Elder Sambucus Canadensis 83 

Elm Ulmus Americana, 

3, 84, 115, 129, 135 

Everlasting Gnaphalium polycephalum 77 

Eyebright Euphrasia officinalis 71 

Ferns. 7 5, 100, 106, 118 

Fever-bush Liudera benzoin 18 

Fire-weed Epilobium angustifolium 60 

Fire-weed Erechthites Meracifolia 77 

Five finger , Potentilla Canadensis 15 

Flag lily Iris versicolor 41 

Floating-heart Limnanthemum lacunosum. . . .48 



IXDEX OF PLANTS. 141 

Forget-me-not . .Myosotis laxa 99, 109 

Foxglove, false Gerardia sp 56, 80 

Gauliheria Gaultheria procumbens 64 

Gentian, box Gentiana Andrewsti. ...... .77, 98 

Closed Gentiana Andrewsii 77, 95 

Fringed ..Gentiana crinita . .77, 99, 105, 109 

Geranium, wild Geranium maculatum 80 

Gerardia Gerardia sp 80, 87, 95 

Dainty purple. . . . Gerardia tenuifolia 81 

Purple Gerardia purpurea ...... 86 

Salt marsh. .... ...Gerardia maritima 81 

Geum, Pecks Geurn radiatum var. Peckii . . . .68 

Ginger, wild Asarum Canadense 24 

Golden-rod Solid ago sp. 

64, 68, 75, 76, 82, 83, 95, 105, 109 

Alpine Solidago Virgaurea 71 

Axile-leaved ... Solidago ccesia 105 

Lance-leaved. . . . Solidago lanceolata 88 

Maritime Solidago sempermrens. 87 

Mountain Solidago Virgaurea 67 

Rigid-leaved Solidago rigida 97 

Seaside Solidago st/nperrirens 88 

TTavy-leaved Solidago undulata 105 

Grape . . Vitis sp 101 

Grass-bur , Cendtrus tribuloides 87 

Hair Deseliarnpxia eaespitosa 71 

Hedge-hog Cenchrus tribuloides 87 

Holy HierocMoa alpina 71 

of Parnassus Parnassia Caroliniana 101 

Peed Pit rag m ites sp 87 

Whitlow Draba verna 5 

Greenbrier Smilax rotundifolia .111, 131, 132 

Ground nut Apios tuberosa 78, 83 

Groundsel Senecio vulgaris 122 

Hardhack Spinea tomentosa 82, 83 

Harebell Gam/pan ula rotundifolia 61 

Hawkweed . Hieradum sp 77, 120 



142 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Hawkweed, Orange Hieraacium auranticum 45 

Hawthorn Cratcegus sp 131 

Hazel Corylus 7, 8, 9, 10, 120, 135 

Beaked Corylus rostrata 10 

Heal-all Brunella vulgaris 3& 

Hellebore 5, 13 

False or white .... Veratrum viride 67 

Hemlock. Tsuga Canadensis 117 

Hemp, Indian Apocynum cannabinum . . 65 

Hepatica Hepatica triloba 8, 12, 14, 15 

Hickory 25, 100, 107, 111, 116, 129 

Holly Ilex opaca 117, 120, 131 

Honeysuckle, bush . . . .Diervilla trifida., 32" 

False Rhododendron nudiflorum 32' 

Fly Lonicera ciliata 32 

Mountain fly . . . . Lonicera caerulea 32 

True 32 

Hornbeam, hop Ostrya Virginica 135 

Horse-chestnut JEJsculus Hippocastanum, 

3, 116, 135 

Huckleberry Gaylussacia sp 18, 111, 112 

Indigo, wild Baptisia tinctoria ... . . ..79, 119> 

Ilex ....Ilex sp 131 

Indian paint brush ...... Castilleia coccinea 27 

Indian pipe Monotropa uniflora 65 

Innocents Houstonia cmrulea 23 

IronAveed Vernonia noveboracensis 77 

Ironwood Ostrya Virginica 115, 130, 134 

Iris Iris sp 41 

Ivy, poison Rhus toiicodrendron 84, 100 

Jack-in-the-pulpit Arisaema triphyUuin.il, 25, 84,101 

Jewel-weed Impatiens fulva 61 

Juniper Jnniperiis communis. .68, 117, 131 

Kalmia Kalmia sp 45, 131 

Knotweed, alpine Polygonum viviparum 71 

Heath-like Polygonella articulata 88 

Lady's slipper Cypripedium acaule 49 



1ND EX OF PL A NTS. 143 

Lady's slipper, showy. . . Cypripedium speetabik 27 

Yellow Cypripedium pubesa ns 24 

Larch Larix Ami ricana 131 

Lambkill, common . . ..Kalmia angustifolia 46 

Glaucous .... . .K<<1 in in glauca 46 

Laurel .Kalmia latifolia 110 

Great Rhododendron maximum.. .... 64 

Mountain Kalmia latifolia, 

IT, 18, 45, 117. 131 

Lavender, seaside Statice Limonium var. Caroliniaiia* 

88 

Leather leaf Cassandra calyculata 17 

Lettuce, wild Lactuca Canadensis 1*20 

Life everlasting Gnaphalium polycephalum. . . .107 

Lilac Syringa vulgaris. . . 3, 116 

Lily Lilium sp 55,68 

Canadian Lilium Canadense 40 

Field 59 

Philadelphian . . Lilium PMladelphicum 40 

Trinity TriUium sp 29 

Turk's cap Lilium superbum 40 

Lmnasa Linusm boreal is 29, 67 

Liverwort Hepatica triloba 14 

Locust Bobinia pseudacada 79 

Honey Gleditschia 121 

Loosestrife, purple . . ..Lythrum Salicaria 60 

Shrubby Deeodon wrtieillatus 59 

Yellow Lysimaehia sp 60 

Lotus 46 

Lupine Lupinus perennis 33 

Magnolia Magnolia glauca 117 

Maiden's -tresses Spiranthes sp 99 

Mallow, rose Hibiscus Moscheutos 59 

Maple Acer sp. 

B 3 T, 84, 107, 110, 112, 126, 135 

Red Acerrubrum 15,100 

Silver leaf Acer dasycarpun 5 



144 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Maple sugar Acer saccharin um 117 

Marigold, marsh Galtha palustris 13, 1? 

Mayflower Epigcea repens 8, 13 

Mayweed Anthemis Cotula 109, 122 

Meadow beauty Ehe.via Yirginica 60, 83 

Meadow sweet Spiraea salicifolia 82 

Menyanthes Menyanthes trifolia 26 

Mikania Mikania scandens 77 

Milkweed, common . . . Asclepias Cornuti 63 

Four-leaved Asclepias quadrifolia 63 

Poke Asclepias incarnata 63 

Mitella Mitella diphylla 29 

Mitre wort Mitella diphylla 29 

False Tiarella cordifolia 29 

Moneses Moneses grandiflora 48 

Money Lysirnachia nummularia 88 

Monkey flower Mim ulus ringeus 77 

Morning glory, wild. . . .Ipomcea purpurea 57 

Mullein Verbascum Thapsus 56 

Moth Verbascum Blattaria 56- 

Nightshade, enchanters. Circcea Lutetiana 61 

Nymphsea Nymplma odorata 46, 47 

Oak Qaercus sp. .100, 107, 112, 120, 129 

Orchis, mountain. .... ..Habenaria obtusata 71 

Purple -fringed. . Habenaria psy codes 50 

Showy Orchis spectabilis 24 

Painted cup Castilleia cocci nea 26, 27 

Alpine Castilleia pallida 70 

Palms 5 

Parsnip, water . . Sium cicutcefolium 87 

Partridge -berry Mitchella repens 48 

Pea 79 

Beach Lathyrus maritimus 76, 86, 88 

Penny cress Thlaspi arvense 87 

Pickerel-weed Pontederia cordata 87 

Pigweed Amarantus retroflexus... 87 

Pimpernel Ana gall is Arvensis 86- 



IXDEX OF PLANTS. 14:5 

Pimpernel, water Samolus Valerandi v&r.Anierieanus 

80 

Pine Finns sp 11? 

Ground Lycopodium complanatum 121 

Pink, wild Silene Pennsylvania* 130 

Pitcher plant Sarracenia purpurea 62 

Plaintain, long-leaved. . .Plantago lanceolata 38 

Rattlesnake Goodyera repens 131 

Pogonia Pogonia ophioglossoides. . .40, 49, 60 

Poke-weed Phytollaeea decandra . .84. 100. 110 

Poly gala, fringed Poly gala paueiflora 2? 

Pond-lily Nymphcea odorata. ...46, 55, 79, 83 

Pink Xymplieea odorata 48 

Yellow Nuphar advena 47 

Poor man's weather glass. Ane/gaUis Arec/<sis .86 

Poplar Populus sp 10,129.134 

Potentella Potentilla sp 15 

Canadian Potentilla Canadensis . . 15 

Silver-leaf Potentilla argentea. . 15 

Primrose, biennial Oenothera biennis 79 

Dwarf CEnotherasp 79,87 

Evening .(Enothera Mennis.79, 109, 130, 132 

Prince's pine GMmaphila umbellate/, .... 117, 131 

Pyrola . Pyrola sp 64 

One-flowered . . . .Moneses grandi flora 48 

Quaker ladies Hemitonia ceerulea 17 

Ragwort, golden Scnecio aureus 26. 27 

Rattlesnake root Prenanfhes sp 58. 70 

Rhododendron Rhododendron maximum . . .64, 131 

Mountain Rhododendron Lapponieum ... .72 

Rhodora Rhododendron Rhodora 18 

Ribgrass Plantago lanceolate/. 38 

Rose Bosa sp. . . 43, 44, 55, 131 

Rose-bay Rhododendron maxim um.. .64. 11? 

Alpine Rhododendron Lapponieum 70 

Rosemary, marsh Statice Li monium var. Carol in in em. 



146 XEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Rowan, American Pyrus Americana 67 

Rudbeckia . . .EudbecMa Mrta 40, 55 

Rue, meadow Thalictrum polygamum 60 

Rush, sedge .Care.v capitata, G. atrata var. Ovata 

C. vulgaris var. hypoborea. .71 

Wood Luzula arcuata, L. spicata 71 

Sabbatia Sdbbatia Cldoroides 85 

Saltwort Salsola kali 87 

Sandwort, alpine Arenaria Groenlandica 68 

Mountain Arenaria Groenlandica 71 

Sea Arenaria peploides 87 

Samphire Salicomia m ucronata ....... .87 

Sassafras Sassafras officinale. 18, 100 

Saxifrage Saxifraga sp 15, 70 

Alpine brook Saxifraga rivularis 69 

Mountain Saxifraga oppositifolia 69 

Yellow mountain . Saxifraga aizoides 70 

Sea-sand weed Arenaria peploides 87 

Sedge Garex sp 71 

Sedge-rush Garex sp 71 

Self-heal Brunella vulgaris ... .39, 109, 133 

Shadbush Amdanchier Canadensis 15 

Shin-leaf Pi/rola elliptica 64 

Sibbaldia Sibbaldia procumbens 69 

Silk-weed Aselepias Gornuti 63 

Silver-weed Potentilla Anserina S6 

Skunk cabbage Symplocarpus feet id a 4 

Smilax, round-leaved. . . Smilax rotundifolia 131 

Wild Smilax rotundifolia 131 

Snap-dragon, wild IAnaria vulgans 55 

Snowberry, creeping Chiogenss hispidula 18 

Snowdrop Galanth us 135 

Solomon's Seal, false . . .Maianthemum Ganadense .. 31, 84 

True Polygonatum biflorum 31 

Sorrel Rumex acetosella 79 

Mountain Oxyria digyna = 70 

Sheep Rumex acetosella 39 



INDEX F PL ANTS. 147 

Sorrel, wood Oxalis acetosella 67 

Spartina Spartina sp 88 

Speedwell Veronica officinalis 89, 50 

Alpine Veronica aljrina 70 

Spice-bush .... , .Lindera Benzoin 15 

Spoonwood Kalmia hit if olio. 46 

Spruce Picea sp 67, 69, 117 

Spurrey Spergula orrensis 87 

Star of Bethlehem Ornithogalum 16 

Starwort, water. ...... Gallitriche verna 7 

Strawberry , Fragaria sp 16 

Sumac Bhussp ....84, 100, 105, 107, 111 

Sundew, common Drosera rotundifolia 62 

Red-flowered Drosera filiformis 62 

Sunflower Helianih us sp 96 

Early Helianth us 59 

Wild Hdionthus 64, 88 

Swamp cheese [Rhododendron viscosum 32 

Sweet fern Myrica asplenifolia 10, 134 

Sweet pepper-bush Glethra alnifolia 76 

Tea, New Jersey Geanothus American us 59 

Thistle Gnicus 77, 83 

Thornapple Datura Stamonium 130 

Thoroughwort. ... . ..Eupatorium perfoliatum. . . .76, 83 

Climbing Mikania scandens 77 

Purple Eupatorium purpureum 77 

"White Eupatorium perfoliatum 77 

Tiarella Tiarella cord if olio 29 

Tick-trefoil Desmodium sp 78 

Toad-flax Linaria vulgaris 55 

Blue Linaria Canadensis 86 

Tobacco, Indian Lobelia inftata 76 

Touch-me-not, wild . . . .Impatiens fulva 61 

Trillium Trillium sp 28 

Painted Trillium erytlirocorpum 29 

Purple Trillium erectum 29 

Trisetum THsetum sp. , 71 

13 



14:8 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Tulip tree Liriodendron Tulipifera ..... .117 

Tupelo Nyssa sylratica 83, 129 

Turtle head Chelone glabra 77. 95 

Venus's fly-trap Dioncm muscipula 62 

Yenus's looking-glass . .. Specula ria perfoliata 86 

Veronica Veronica sp 39 

Violet Viola sp 3, 8, 23, 126, 127 

Bird-foot Viola pedata 23 

Downy yellow Viola pubescens 24 

Marsh Viola palustris 69 

White Viola blanda 23 

Yellow Viola rotund if alia 24 

Virgin's Bower Clematis Virginiana ......... 81 

Watershield Brasenia paltata 48 

Waxwork, Roxbury. . . Celastrus scandens . .82, 132 

White weed . Chrysanthemum leucanthemum.Sl 

Willow Scdix, 7, 9 ; 69 

Bearberry Scdix uva-ursi .70 

Dwarf Scdix pliylicifolia 70 

Herbaceous Scdix Tierbacea 70 

Willow-herb, alpine. . . .Epilobium Hornemanni 70 

Witch hazel . .... . . Hamamelis Virginiana 110 

Woodbine ...... « .Ampelopsis Virginica 82, 100 

Wormwood, salt water 86 

Yarrow AcMllaea millefolium, 

109, 120, j 22, 133 



INDEX OF SCIENTIFIC NAMES. 

Arctostaphylos alpine 70 

Arenaria Groenlandica 71 

Arnica Chamissionis 98 

Aster laevis 98 

Betula glandulosa , 70 

Bryanthus taxifolius 70 

Cardamine bellidifolia 69 

Atrata var. ovata 71 

Carex capillaris 71 

Capitata 71 

Vulgaris var. hyperborea 71 

Cassiope bypnoides . 70 

Castilleia pallida var. septentrionalis 70 

Descbampsia crespitosa 71 

Diapensia Lapponica 70 

Empetrum nigrum 71 

Epilobium Hornemanni 70 

Euphrasia officinalis 71 

Geum radiatum var. Peckii 71 

Gnapbalium supinum 70 

Habenaria obtusata. 71 

Hierocbloa alpina 71 

Iris Florentina 42 

Luzula arcuata 71 

Spicata 71 

Loiseleuria procumbens 70 

Oxysia digyna , . 70 

Pinguicula vulgaris 70 

Polygonum viviparum 71 

Potentilla frigida 69 



150 NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS. 

Prenanthes Boottii 70 

Serpentaria var. nana 70 

Rhododendron Lapponicum 70 

Rubus Chamsemorus '. 71 

Salix argyrocarpa 70 

Herbacea 70 

Phylicifolia 70 

Uva-ursi 70 

Saxif raga aizoides 70 

Aizoon 70 

Oppositifolia 69 

Rivularis 70 

Stellaris var. comosa 70 

Scirpus caespitosus 71 

Silene acaulis 69 

Sibbaldia procumbens 69 

Solidago arguta 96 

Caesia 96 

N em oralis 96 

Spicata 96 

Virgaurea var. alpine 71 

Trisetum sub-spicatum , 71 

Vaccinium csespitosu-m 70 

Uliginosum . 70 

Vitis-Idaea 71 

Veronica alpina 70 

Viola palustris 69 



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History of the State of Rhode Island 

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MARY DYER 

OF RHODE ISLAND, 

The Quaker Martyr that was Hanged on Boston 
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By HORATIO ROGERS, 
Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of Rhode Island. 



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12 



NEW ENGLAND WILD FLOWERS 
AND THEIR SEASONS. 



By W. WHITMAN BAILEY. 

PROFE8SOB OF BOTANY IX BROWN UNIVERSITY. 



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SAMUELL GORTON: 

FIRST SETTLER OF WARWICK, R. L 
A FORGOTTEN FOUNDER OF OUR LIBERTIES 



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PRESIDENT OF THE BROOKLYN ETHICAL ASSOCIATION 



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